,  - 


*     « 


PIONEER"  *H  EBO  ES 

AND  THEIE 

DARING  DEEDS. 

THE 

LIVES  AND  "FAMOUS  EXPLOITS 

OF 

DE  SOTO, 

CHAMPLAIN,    LA    SALLE, 

SMITH,  STANDISH,  BOONE,  KENTON, 

BRADY,  CROCKETT,  BOWIE,  HOUSTON,  CARSON, 

HARNEY,  OUSTER,  CALIFORNIA  JOE, 

WILD  BILL,  BUFFALO  BILL, 

MILES,  CROOK, 

AND 

OTHER    HERO    EXPLORERS,    RENOWNED     FRONTIER 

FIGHTERS,  AND  CELEBRATED  EARLY  SETTLERS 

OF    AMERICA,    FROM     THE     EARLIEST 

TIMES     TO     THE     PRESENT. 


BY  D.  M.  KELSEY. 


ROFUSELY  ILLUSTRATED. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

G.  O.  PELTON,  PUBLISHER. 

1883. 


COPYRIGHT  1882, 

BY  SCAMMELL  &  COMPANY. 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


PREFACE. 

MANY  are  the  books  that  give  in  interesting  detail  the  ad- 
ventures of  a  single  or  a  few  heroes,  or  of  a  restricted  region 
of  the  American  frontiers.  But  it  has  been  the  conception  of  this 
volume  to  present  a  broad  view,  embracing  the  more  celebrated 
episodes  of  the  life  led  by  the  most  noted  pioneer  explorers, 
early  settlers  and  brave  soldiers  who  have  won  distinction  in 
border  warfare.  It  is  surely  a  worthy  task  to  gather,  in  a  natu- 
ral, chronological  succession,  records  of  those  thrilling  exploits, 
the  recitals  of  which,  oft  repeated,  have  secured  their  heroes 
immortality. 

If  it  be  objected  that  many  of  these  worthies  seemed  to  lack  a 
sufficient  respect  for  the  sacredness  of  human  life,  their  surround- 
ings should  be  remembered.  If  they  were  apparently  too  ready 
with  the  knife  or  the  trigger,  it  was  because  their  own  lives  were 
felt  to  be  held  cheaply  by  many  about  them  who  were  unre- 
strainable  by  law. 

At  least  we  have  glorified  no  gory  outlaws,  nor  have  we  paint- 
ed in  alluring  colors  the  road  to  the  penitentiary  or  the  scaffold. 

Tha  chain  is  nearly  complete :  not  entirely,  for  it  was  not  de- 
signed to  make  a  set  history  of  all  border  events  of  interest. 
The  chief  aim  has  been  to  display  the  differing  phases  of  the  same 
long  battle  on  the  frontiers,  from  decade  to  decade,  through  centu- 
ries, as  the  Indian  races  were  gradually  pushed  back  by  the  march 
of  the  encroaching  white  race,  till  it  enveloped  them  on  all  sides. 
It  is  impossible  to  give,  in  a  single  volume,  or,  indeed,  in  a  small 
library,  the  lives  of  all  Americans  who  have  met  with  remarkable 
and  thrilling  adventures  with  either  brute  or  human  aborigines. 
But  it  is  believed  that  the  most  typical  character  of  each  strong- 
ly marked  period  has  been  selected ;  and  while  it  is  also  imprac- 


Vi  PREFACE. 

ticable  to  include  all  the  stories  relating  to  such  men,  it  is  thought 
that  those  incidents  most  characteristic  of  a  man  and  his  times, 
and  possessing  the  most  interest  to  the  reader,  have  been  chosen. 

So  many  different  volumes  have  been  consulted,  that  to  refer 
each  statement  to  the  authority  upon  which  it  is  based  would 
needlessly  encumber  the  book.  When  the  original  possesses  spe- 
cial interest,  as  in  the  case  of  Boone's  Autobiography,  or  Crock- 
ett's Diary  in  the  Alamo,  it  is  specially  quoted. 

ST.  Louis,  July,  1882.  D.  M.  K. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE  I. 
FERDINAND  DE  SOTO. 
Birth  and  Education — The  Grandee's  Daughter — Getting  Eid  of  the  Lover — In  Amer- 
ica— The  Duel — Sentenced  to  Death — With  Pizarro  in  South  America — Acquires 
"Wealth  at  Last — Returns  to  Spain — Honors — Marriage — Discontented — Organ- 
izes an  Expedition  to  Florida — His  Lieutenant — Hostile  Reception  by  Natives — 
Obdurate  Ucita — The  Lieutenant  Goes  out  for  Wool  and  Comes  Back  Shorn — 
De  Soto  Gets  Fairly  on  the  Way— To  the  Land  of  Gold  Hats— Perversity  of  the 
Indians — Attacked  on  Every  Hand — Vitacucho's  Plot  and  its  Miscarriage — De 
Soto  Still  Resolute — Presses  Forward — The  Indian  Princess — Spanish  Gratitude 
— Tuscaloosa — A  Grand  Reception,  a  Battle  and  a  Massacre — Northward  through 
Difficulties— The  Father  of  Waters— Still  Westward,  Ho !— Driven  Back— Insults 
and  Injuries— Sickness— Death— His  Grave— The  End  of  the  Romance.  .  .  19-46 

CHAPTEE  IL 
THE  FRENCH  PIONEERS. 

Why  They  Came — Dragons,  Griffins  and  Demons — CARTIER — CHAMPLAIST — Early 
Life — The  Colonists — A  Canadian  Winter — Explorations — Kindness  to  the  In- 
dians— Return  to  France — Back  to  Canada  Again — A  Convert  that  Liked  Pie — 
Building  Quebec — Intense  Cold — Champlain  Takes  the  War-path — The  Battle  on 
Lake  Champlain — The  Iroquois  Make  the  Acquaintance  of  a  Gun — Presenting 
the  Head  of  an  Iroquois  to  the  King — Another  Campaign — Finding  the  Way  to 
China — A  Brazen  Liar — A  Defeat — Difficulties  with  Disorderly  Colonists — Death 
of  Champlain — FATHER  MARQUETTE — The  Jesuits  in  America — From  Canada 
Down  the  Mississippi  to  the  Arkansas — Death  of  the  Missionary — LA  SALLE — 
Early  Life — Coming  to  Canada — Glowing  Indian  Accounts  of  the  Country — Ex- 
ploration of  the  Ohio — Preparations  for  Another  Expedition — Obtains  a  Patent 
— Builds  a  Stone  Fort  and  a  Ship — Treachery  and  Disaster — To  the  Mississippi 
— Kindly  Received — Monso's  Night  Visit  and  its  Consequences — A  Perilous  Jour- 
ney— A  False  Alarm — Another  Plan — Traverses  the  Mississippi — Beaujeu  Deserts 
—In  Texas— To  Canada  for  Help— Discord— A  Shot  from  the  Grass— Death  of 
LaSalle  . 47-81 

CHAPTEE  ILL 
CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH. 

His  Early  Ambition — Serves  as  a  Soldier — Studies  Military  Science — Is  Thrown  Over- 
board— Adventures  in  the  Turkish  War — A  Lively  Champion — Capture  and 
Slavery — Escape — Joins  the  Virginian  Colony — Dissensions  on  the  Voyage — Ac- 
cused of  Conspiracy — Settlement  and  Explorations — Offends  the  Officials — Con- 
founds his  Accusers — The  First  Fight — Hardships  in  the  Colony — An  Expedi- 
tion— Surprised  by  the  Savages — Desperate  Fight — Captured  by  Indians — Poca- 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

hontas  Saves  Smith — Made  President  of  the  Colony — A  Cure  for  Profanity- 
Plot  against  Powhatan — Trick  for  Trick — Takes  a  Chief  Captive — Bringing  the 
Dead  to  Life — What  the  Company  Desired — Savages  Experiment  with  Powder 
— Reinforcements — Hurt  hy  an  Explosion — Returns  to  England — Goes  to  New 
England — Captured  by  Pirates — Escapes  in  a  Small  Boat — Pocahontas  in  Eng- 
land—Massacre at  Jamestown— Death  of  Smith  ....  82-109 

CHAPTEE  IT. 
CAPTAIN  MILES  STANDISH. 

Descents-Service  in  Flanders— The  Purilans — Attempts  to  Depart  for  "  Virginia  " 
— Voyage  on  ,the  Mayflower — Exploring  the  Coast — Attacked  by  Indians — Ter- 
rible Weather — Landing  of  the  Pilgrims  at  Plymouth — Building  Homes — Sick- 
ness and  Death  in  the  Colony — Danger  Threatens — Samoset's  Welcome — Visit  of 
Massasoit — Treaty — Avenging  Squantum — Expedition  Northward — Declaration 
of  War — Sending  Back  the  Snake-skin — Priscilla — Sqiiantum's  False  Reports — 
Obtaining  Food — WeymouJth — Standish's  Fight  with  Pecksnot,  the  Braggart — 
Report  of  Standish's  Death — Marriage  of  John  Alden  and  Priscilla — Return  of 
the  Captain — Massasoit  Requests  Help — Trouble  with  Neighboring  Colonies — 
Removal  to  Duxbury — Pequod  War — Death  of  Capt.  Standish — Massasoit's  Suc- 
cessors— Indian  Jealousy  of  White  Rule — King  Philip's  War  Begins — Mount 
Hope — Brookfield — The  Swamp  Fight — Philip  Resolute — A  Savage's  Revenge 
—King  Philip's  Death— End  of  the  War 110-146 

CHAPTEE  Y. 
GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

Early  Years— Thrashing  the  City  Boy— Caught  Up  a  Tree— Shoot,  I  Tell  You  !— 
Removal  to  Connecticut — The  Famous  Wolf  Adventure — A  Popular  Hero — 
French  and  Indian  War — Braddock's  Defeat — Putnam  as  a  Ranger — A  Danger- 
ous Situation — In  the  Midst  of  the  Enemy — A  Pierced  Canteen — A  Wary  Senti- 
nel— Attack  on  the  Boats — The  Biter  Bit — Cowardly  Subordinates — Wood-cut- 
ting— Disregarding  Orders  to  Save  Comrades — The  Barracks  on  Fire — Putnam 
Saves  the  Magazine — Down  the  Rapids  of  the  Hudson — Major  Rogers'  Careless- 
ness— A  Fight  in  the  Woods — Putnam  Captured — Brutality  of  the  Indians — Pre- 
paring for  the  Torture — Rescued — Exchanged — Taking  the  Ship — Pontiac's  Con- 
spiracy— Return  Home — Oppression  of  the  Colonies — Endeavors  of  British  to 
Bribe  American  Officers — Bunker  Hill — Superintending  Hard  Work — The  Dash 
Down  Horseneck — Two  Duels,  in  Both  of  which  Wit  is  his  Weapon — Paralysm 
—Death 147-176 

CHAPTEE  VI. 
CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY. 

Early  Life — A  Volunteer  Rifleman — No  Commission,  if  You  Please — An  Oificer  in 
Spite  of  Refusal — Another  Kind  of  Work — The  Reason  Why — Sent  to  Sandusky 
— Rescues  Prisoners — Another  Trip — Shooting  the  Dog — "Give  the  Others  a 
Chance" — The  Others  Get  a  Chance — But  Brady  Gets  the  Scalps — Phouts — 
They  Take  a  Prisoner — Phouts  Gets  Disgusted,  and  the  Prisoner  Gets  Killed — 
Brady  Captured — A  Pappoose  in  Danger — Three  Big  Injuns  Sitting  in  a  Row — 
Brady  Takes  Aim  and  Away  they  Go — A  Night  Attack — At  Brady's  Lake — 


CONTENTS.  1* 

t 

Brady's  Leap  Across  the  Cuyahoga — A  New  Kind  of  Wild  Turkey — Brought  to 
Triftl — A  Friendly  Witness — Last  Days 177-192 

CHAPTEE  VII. 
COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE, 

Boone's  Fame — Early  Training — A  Deer  Turns  Out  a  Dear — Leaves  North  Carolina 
for  Kentucky — The  Neutral  or  "Dark  and  Bloody  Ground " — Captured  "by  the 
Indians — The  Escape — The  Lonely  Camp— Squire  Boone's  Arrival — Alone  in  the 
Wilderness — Savage  Visits — Removes  his  Family  to  Kentucky — Attack  on  the 
Emigrants — Disheartened  Companions— The  Dunmore  War — Back  Again — Settle- 
ment at  Boonesborough — Eejection  of  the  Peace-Belt — Capture  of  the  Three  Girls 
— The  Rescue — The  First  Siege  of  Boonesborough — The  Second  Siege — Capture 
of  Boone  and  Surrender  of  his  Party — A  Particular  Attachment  for  Boone — His 
Indian  Toilet — Escapes  Again — A  Smart  Fight — The  Third  Siege — Parleying — • 
"A  Singular  Custom" — An  Unsuccessful  Attempt  at  Treachery  by  the  Besiegers — 
A  Mine  and  a  Countermine — The  Siege  Raised — Saltmaking — Squire  Boone  Killed 
— Flight  for  Life — The  Hat  Stratagem — Robbed — Unjust  Suspicions — A  Bloody 
Fight — Attack  on  Bryant's  Station — The  Water  Carriers — The  Decoy — Cunning 
against  Cunning  —  Reinforcements  —  Pursuit  of  the  Indians — McGary's  Rash 
Courage — A  Battle  that  Becomes  a  Slaughter — Heavy  Loss — Flight  to  the  Settle- 
ments— Noble  Deeds  —  Peace — Boone  a  Farmer — The  Tobacco  Stratagem — 
Throws  Dust  in  the  Eyes  of  the  Indians — Land  Speculators — Loses  His  Home — 
Removes  East — Too  Crowded — Learns  of  a  "Happy  Land — To  Which  He  Re- 
moves— Prosperity — Trouble  Again  with  Titles — Paying  Off  Debts — Old  Age 
—Death  .  .  .........  193-226 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
SIMON  KENTON. 

A  Boyish  Passion — His  First  Victory — Disastrous  Result — His  Flight — Wanderings 
and  Adventures — In  Dunmore's  War — At  Boonesborough — Saves  Boone  from 
the  Indians — A  Horse-Stealing  Expedition — Captured — Plenty  of  Fun  for  the 
Indians — Not  So  Much  for  Kenton — Too  Much  of  a  Free  Ride — A  Hug — At- 
tempts to  Escape — Recapture — The  Council  House — Condemned  to  the  Torture 
and  Death — Simon  Girty — The  Renegade's  Intercession — The  Unreasonableness 
of  his  Request — The  Decision  Reversed — A  Larger  Council  Confirms  the  First — 
Girty  Powerless — Logan  Fails  to  Save  Kenton — The  Captive  is  Borrowed — But 
Not  Returned  to  the  Lenders — Escapes  to  Boonesborough — Service  as  Soldier — 
Loses  his  Land — Effort  to  Regain  it — "Visits  the  Legislature — Unexpected  Honors 
— «  Proudest  Day  of  My  Life  "—Death 227-245 

CHAPTEE  IX. 

OTHER  HEROES  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  BOONE. 

THE  WETZELS — Boyish  Years — Capture  of  Jacob  and  Lewis  Wetzel — Escape  of  the 
Boys — Killing  of  Mills — Lewis  Wetzel  Chased  by  Four  Indians — Lewis  Wetzel 
Loading  while  Running — "Him  Gun  Always  Loaded" — Jacob  Wetzel  and  Ken- 
ton  Go  on  a  Hunt — Old  Wetzel's  Heroism  while  Mortally  Wounded — Aveng- 
ing their  Father— Martin  Wetzel  Captured— Kills  Three  Indians  and  Escapes 


X  CONTENTS. 

— Lewis  "Wetzel  Hunts  Indians — Trees  Four — One  Gets  Away — Shoots  an  In- 
dian in  Time  of  Peace — Imprisoned — Military  Dignity — An  Amusing  Game — 
Which  Deceives  the  Guard — Escapes — Pursuing  Marauders — An  Impetuous  Lov- 
er— THE  POES — A  Party  of  Avengers — Two  Birds  with  One  Stone — The  Birds  are 
Very  Much  Alive — Andrew  Poe's  Fight  with  Two  Indians — A  Desperate  Battle 
— Nip  and  Tuck — Help  Arrives — Shot  by  Friends — MAJOR  SAMUEL  McCuLLOCH 
— Siege  of  Fort  Henry — McCulloch's  Force  Arrives — Gets  into  the  Fort — But 
the  Major  is  Cut  Off— Famous  Leap  Down  Wheeling  Creek  .  .  .  246-262 

CHAPTEE  X. 

LEWIS  AND  CLARKE  EXPEDITION. 

The  West  in  1800— Census  Figures  Then  and  Now— Attempts  at  Making  Overland 
Passages  to  the  Pacific — Purchase  of  Louisiana  from  the  French— Jefferson's  Plan 
— Setting  Out  of  the  Expedition — The  Ancestors  of  the  Osages — Councils  with  the 
Indians — A  Treacherous  River — Indian  Horse  Thieves — Amusing  the  Visitors — 
A  Fight  Threatened — Winter  Quarters — Assault  on  a  Small  Party — Losses 
— A  Retaliatory  Expedition — Bear  Fights — A  Close  Shave — A  Buffalo  Hunt — 
Exploring — Difficulties  of  the  Journey — Appalling  Stories — Trading  with  the 
Nez  Perces  Indians — Crossing  the  Mountains — Descending  the  Columbia — Win- 
ter Quarters — Eye- Water  Medicine  Men — On  the  Return — Encamp  with  Eight 
Blackfeet— Th'ievishness  of  their  Visitors— Deceitful  Conduct— A  Lively  Time 
—The  Journey's  End  . 263-277 

CHAPTEE  XL 

GEN.  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 

Birth  and  Education — Commissioned  Ensign — Service  among  Ohio  Indians — Civil 
Appointments — British  vs.  American  Treatment  of  Indians — Turbulent  State  of 
the  Country — Elskwatawa,  the  Prophet — Tecumseh,  the  Chief — Indian  Efforts 
at  Reformation — Shawnee  Rights  and  Superiority — Tecumseh's  Education  and 
Early  Experiences — League  of  the  Tribes — Appeals  to  Superstition — Eloquence 
of  the  Prophet— The  Prophet's  Town— Tecumseh's  Life-work— Efforts  to  Con- 
ciliate Indians — Reception  of  the  Messenger — Outwitting  the  Governor— Rumors 
of  War — Haughty  Treatment — Council  at  Vincennes — Almost  a  Fight — Depart- 
ure of  Harrison  for  the  Indian  Village — Encampment  on  the  Tippecanoe — The 
Attack— The  Battle— Defeat  of  the  Prophet— The  Prophet's  GTeneralship— Peace 
in  Indiana — Gov.  Harrison's  Courage — Tecumseh  Returns — Gives  the  Prophet  a 
Shaking — Which  He  Deserves — The  Chief  Joins  the  British — Indians  Spoiling 
for  a  Fight — Disgusted  at  Retreat — Tecumseh's  Independence — The  Battle — 
Death  of  Tecumseh — Gen.  Harrison's  Military  Reputation — Conduct  Aspersed — 
Vindicated  —  Resignation  —  Political  Success  —  The  Log-cabin  and  Hard  Cider 
Campaign— "Tippecanoe  and  Tyler,  too"— Sudden  Death  .  .  278-301 

CHAPTEE  XII. 
COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 

His  Family  and  Birth— Childhood— Hired  Out— Runs  Home— Three  Days  at  School 
— Why  He  Left — How  He  Returned,  Three  Years  Later — School  Again— A 


CONTENTS.  x 

"Wedding  in  Prospect — Skill  as  a  Marksman — But  He  Did  Not  Hit  the  Lady's 
Heart — Jilted — Disconsolate — Until  He  Finds  Another — Married — Soldier-Life 
— Loses  His  Wife — Marries  Another — Made  "a  Magistrate — Writs  in  "  Verbal 
Writing1" — Elected  Colonel  of  Militia — Member  of  the  State  Legislature — Losses 
in  Business — Kemoval  to  the  "Shakes" — His  Rifle,  Betsy — Powder  for  Christ- 
mas Guns — A  Bear  Fight — In  the  Legislature  Again — Electioneering — Stump 
Speeches — Popular  Oratory — Opposition  to  Jackson — More  Bear  Hunting — A 
Business  Venture— A  Narrow  Escape — Elected  to  Congress — A  Pleasure  Trip 
North — Enthusiastic  Eeception — "Go  Ahead  " — Ten  Quarts  of  Hum  for  a  Coon- 
skin— Job  Snelling's  Honesty— Defeated— G.  T.  T.— Thimblerig— "  Live  Hon- 
estly or  Die  Bravely  " — Encounter  with  a  Cougar — Enters  San  Antonio — Defense 
of  the  Alamo — A  Skirmish — Storming  of  the  Alamo — Surrender — Barbarity  of 
Santa  Anna— Death  of  Crockett 302-329 

CHAPTEE  XIII. 

GENERAL  SAM  HOUSTON. 

Early  Settlement  of  Texas — THE  AUSTINS — Difficulties  Besetting  the  Colonists — 
Death  of  the  Elder  Austin — LAJITTE,  the  Pirate — STEPHEN  F.  AUSTIN — The 
Fredonia  Trouble — Mexican  Suspicion — Murder  of  Hunter — Houston's  Early 
Life — Serves  with  Jackson  in  the  Creek  War — Severe  Wounds — High  Honors — 
Governor  of  Tennessee — Sudden  and  Unaccountable  Departure — Adopted  by 
the  Indians — COLONEL  BOWIE — His  Famous  Knife — A  Fight  on  a  Sand-bar — 
Search  for  Silver  Mines — Attacked  by  the  Indians — An  Obstinate  Defense — 
President  Santa  Anna — Austin's  Mission  to  Mexico — Imprisonment  and  Trial 
for  Treason  —  Released  —  Confusion  in  Texas — War  Approaching — Houston 
Made  Commander-in-Chief — Siege  of  the  Alamo  by  the  Texans — The  Grass 
Fight — Surrender  of  the  Fortress — Storming  of  the  Alamo — Death  of  Colonel 
Travis^— Death  of  Colonel  Bowie — Goliad — Brutal  Massacre  of  the  Prisoners — 
Battle  of  San  Jacinto — "  Remember  the  Alamo ! " — Signal  Victory — Ignominious 
Capture  of  General  Santa  Anna — Acknowledges  the  Independence  of  Texas — 
Houston  Elected  President — Death  of  Austin — Mexican  Raids — Snively  Expedi- 
tion— Texas  Enters  the  United  States — Houston  Elected  U.  S.  Senator — Opposes 
Secession — Resigns  Office  of  Governor — Death — His  Name  ....  330-360 

CHAPTEE   XIY. 

KIT  CARSON. 

A  Boy  Hunter — In  New  Mexico — Surgery  on  the  Plains — Trapping — Indian  Horse 
Thieves— Pursuit  by  Trappers— Digger  Indians— Success  in  Trapping— Indian 
Thieves  Attacked  Successfully — Perilous  Situation — A  Narrow  Escape — Pursu- 
ing the  Horse  Thief — Fight  with  Two  Bears  —  Up  a  Tree — Fight  with  In- 
dians— Carson  Saves  His  Friend — The  Rendezvous  of  Trappers — A  Duel  with  a 
Braggart — More  Horse  Thieves — Attack  on  Indians — Carson's  Brave  Generosity 
— Encounter  with  Mountain  Lion — Another  Indian  Battle — The  War  Dance — 
"Monarch  of  the  Prairies" — Hunter  for  Bent's  Fort — The  Peacemaker — The  In- 
dian Wife— JOHN  C.  FREMONT— Exploring  Expeditions— Incidents  of  the  Jour- 
ney— Too  Big  a  Load — "Indians!  Indians!" — The  Frenchmen's  Jealousy  of 
Carson  —  The  Return  —  Carson  Settles  in  New  Mexico — On  another  Trip  with 


Xii  CONTENTS. 

Fremont — Great  Salt  Lake — Diggers  and  Fish  Eaters — Klamath  Lake — Search- 
ing  for  the  Imaginary — Crossing  the  Mountains — Dismal  "Warnings — The  Indian 
Guide  Deserts — Severe  Hardships — Accomplish  the  Passage — Carson  Rescues 
Fremont — Fremont's  Third  Expedition — The  Mexican  War  Threatens — News 
from  Home — Camp  Attacked  by  Indians — Lives  Lost — Revenge — Destroying 
Indian  Village — Fremont  Saves  Carson — A  "Wary  Old  Warrior  Foiled — Carson 
Sent  to  Washington — Meets  Gen.  Kearney,  and  Returns  with  Him — Severe 
Fight  with  Mexicans — Carson  Goes  for  Help — A  Heroic  Journey — Close  of  the 
War — Recognition  of  Carson's  Services — Fremont's  Fourth  Expedition — Indian 
Horse  Thieves,  Again — Saves  Two  Merchants  from  Desperadoes — A  Captive  in 
Indian  Hands — Brigadier-General — Death 361-402 

CHAPTEE  XV. 

GEN.  WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 

A  Tennesseean — Intended  to  be  a  Sailor — But  Commissioned  Lieutenant  in  the  Army 
— Service  in  the  South — Lafitte  and  His  Pirates — An  Encounter  with  Them — In 
St.  Louis — An  Indian  Council — O'Fallon's  Rashness — Race  with  an  Indian — 
Another  Race — How  an  Offender  Escaped  a  Whipping,  and  Capt.  Harney's 
Anger  was  Cooled  by  a  Ducking — BLACK  HAWK — The  War — An  Indian  Victory 
— "The  Two  Ponies,"  Harney  and  Lincoln — A  Reconnoissance — Defeat  of  Black 
Hawk — Capt.  Harney's  Marriage — To  Florida — The  Seminoles — Repulse  of  the 
Indians— OSCEOLA— The  Treaty  Broken— A  New  Kind  of  Treaty— Harney's 
Influence — A  Treacherous  Night  Attack — Escape  through  the  Woods — Alarmed 
at  a  Canoe — That  Proves  to  be  Empty — Useless  Bloodhounds — Fight  in  the 
Everglades  —  End  of  the  Florida  War — The  Mexican  War — Rival  Generals' 
Jealousies — Gallantry  at  Cerro  Gordo — -Brevetted  Brigadier-General  —  Indian 
Troubles  on  the  Borders — Gen.  Harney  to  W^hip  the  Indians — He  Does  it — 
Buncombe — In  Oregon — Return  to  St,  Louis — The  Civil  War  Begins — Urged  to 
Join  the  Confederate  Army — Retired  from  Service — Member  of  the  Indian  Peace 
Commission— «  You  were  a  Friend  of  My  Father''  .  .  .  403-428 

CHAPTEE  XVI. 

GEN.  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 

Boyhood— A  Cadet— Strict  Discipline— "  Walking  Extras"— A  Fair  Fight— The 
Officer  of  the  Guard  is  Sent  to  the  Guard  House — Court-Martialed — Never  Hears 
the  Decision — Active  Service  in  the  War — Ambition — Results  of  the  Battle  of 
Aldie— The  Boy-General—End  of  the  Civil  War— Westward,  Ho !— To  Fight 
Indians — Gen.  Hancock's  Expedition — A  Fight  Threatened — An  Empty  Camp 
—A  Buffalo  Hunt— The  Buffalo  Escapes,  and  the  Horse  is  Killed— Satanta— 
Custer's  First  Lessons  in  Indian  Nature — The  Attack  on  the  Wagon-Train — 
Comstock,  the  Scout — The  Kidder  Massacre — Comstock's  Opinion — Rapid 
Marching — Court-Martialed — Suspended — Restored  by  Request  of  Officers—  CAL- 

FOKNTA  JOE Origin  and  Experiences — Condemned  to  the  Torture — Saved 

— The  Rescue  of  the  White  Girl — "An  Ambulance  Man  or  a  Hoss  Man?" — 
Joe's  Pride  Gets  a  Fall — Drill — A  Winter  Campaign — March  through  the  Snow- 
storm— California  Joe's  Opinion — Reconnoitering — The  Attack  on  the  Cheyenne 
Village — A  Hornets'  Nest — The  Hornets  are  Crushed — The  Seventh  Cavalry 


Xlil 

Congratulated — Ouster  Hurries  Up  an  Indian  Moving — Kescue  of  Captives — 
Submission  of  the  Indians — Ordered  to  the  East — Buffalo  Hunting  with  the 
Grand  Duke — To  the  "West  Again — A  Mid-day  Nap  and  the  Awakening — The 
Triangle  Ride— A  Fight— The  Black  Hills  Expedition— Capture  and  Trial  of 
Rain-in-the-Face — His  Reputation  and  His  Ominous  Oath — Custer  Summoned 
to  "Washington — Executive  Vengeance — The  March  to  the  Little  Big  Horn — 
Plan  of  Attack — Reno's  Hesitation  and  Repulse — Benteen's  Disobedience — The 
Last  Rally— "  We  Have  Killed  Them  All" 429-473 

CHAPTER  XYIL 
WILD  BILL. 

Description — Learning  to  Shoot — His  First  Treasure — Shooting  "Wolves — To  Kan- 
sas— Joins  Lane's  Company — Astonishes  the  Natives  by  His  Marksmanship — 
Winning  a  Name — Farmer — Stage  Driver — Reputation — The  Best  Shot  on  the 
Plains — Attack  on  Indians — Encounter  with  a  Bear — Fight  with  the  McCandlas 
Gang — A  New  Title — Brigade  Wagon-Master — In  Disgrace — Retrieval — Sharp- 
shooting  at  Pea  Ridge — A  Spy — A  Dare-Devil  Game — Which  Proves  Successful 
— Entering  the  Confederate  Lines  Again — Daring  Escape — Racing — Dead  Broke 
— A  Spy  Again — Discovered — In  Prison — A  Sleepy  Guard  and  a  Rusty  Knife — 
How  He  Got  Black  Nell — A  Friend's  Devotion  and  the  General's  Surprise — A 
Mean  Indian  Trick — Duel  with  Conquering  Bear — Put  Upon — Spoiling  for  a 
Fights-Wild  Bill  Satisfies  the  Natives— Fight  with  Four  Men— Chief  of  Scouts 
—Kills  Black  Kettle— Wounded— A  Lively  Marshal  of  Hays  City— "Pretty 
Quiet,  Thank  You,  for  a  Frontier  Town  "—Fight  with  Fifteen  Soldiers— Escape, 
Terribly  Wounded — A  Plan  for  Making  Money — Dead  Broke — Out  of  His 
Element — Marshal  of  Abilene  —  A  Texan's  Revenge  —  It  Costs  More  than  it 
Comes  to — Jumping  for  Life — "  Settle  it  with  Me  " — On  the  Stage — Wants  Real 
Whiskey— No  Fun  Allowed,  so  He  Leaves  in  Disgust— The  Black  Hills— The 
Hunter  is  Hunted — Marriage — In  Dead  wood — Foully  Murdered — Wild  Bill's 
Character 474-510 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 
BUFFALO  BILL. 

Boyhood — The  California  Gold  Fever — Kansas  Troubles — A  Hero  for  Imitation — 
Billings  as  a  Bocarro — Saving  his  Father — Congenial  Employment — A  Fight 
at  School — Herding — Attacked  by  the  Indians — Billy's  First  Redskin — Defended 
by  Wild  Bill — A  Breastwork  of  Dead  Mules — A  Broken  Leg — Alone  in  the 
Dug-Out — Saved  by  Rain-in-the-Face — Pony  Express  Rider — Attack  on  the 
Stage-Coach — The  Horse  Thieves'  Den — Escape — He  had  Cleaned  out  the 
Ranch — One  of  Chandler's  Gang — Scouting — Enlisted — Marriage — Hotel-Keep- 
ing—  Scouting  Again — The  Tenth  Cavalry  Don't  "Blow  de  Injuns  offer  de 
Farm" — Frightened  Darkies — Half-Owner  of  a  Town — The  Town  Moves  and 
Cody  Breaks— A  Kind  Offer  of  Some  Meat— But  He  Supplies  Himself— The 
Spunky  Tenth  Cavalry  Again — Employed  as  Hunter — Wins  His  Name — Four 
Thousand  Two  Hundred  Buffaloes  in  Eighteen  Months — A  Race  for  Life — At 
Bay— The  Fire  Signal— A  Buffalo-Killing  Match— Comstock  Badly  Beaten— 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

"How,  Howl" — Indian  Humor— Which  Bill  Doesn't  Appreciate — The  "  Whoa- 
Haws" — Lie  against  Lie — A  Trustworthy  Messenger — Flight — Bringing  Meat 
into  Camp — Breaking  in  a  New  Lieutenant — The  Fifth  Cavalry  Victorious — 
Shooting  Tall  Bull — Justice  Cody — An  Effective  "Writ  of  Keplevin — Eastern 
Hunting  Parties — An  Imperial  Pupil — How  the  Grand  Duke  Killed  his  First 
Buffalo— On  the  Stage — Member  of  the  Legislature — Buntline's  Energy — Suc- 
cess as  an  Actor — Scouting  Again — The  Cheyennes  Leave  their  Reservation — 
But  the  Fifth  Cavalry  Induces  them  to  Return — Cody  Engages  an  Indian  in 
Single  Combat— "The  First  Scalp  for  Custer"— Later  Services  .  .  511-656 

CHAPTEE  XIX. 

TEN  YEARS  OF  INDIAN  WARFARE. 

Both  Sides  of  the  Question — The  Modoc  War — The  Lava  Beds — Peace  Commission- 
ers— A  Parley — The  Canby  Massacre — Attacking  the  Modocs — Desertion  of  the 
Warriors — Surrender  of  Captain  Jack — Trial  and  Execution  of  the  Murderers — 
A  Quiet  Interim — The  Battle  on  the  Rosebud — A  Slippery  Enemy — GEN.  CROOK 
— His  Advance — Reinforcements — Junction  of  Forces — A  Secret  Approach — 
Gen.  McKenzie's  Attack  on  the  Cheyennes — A  Galling  Fire — Help  not  Needed 
— Retreat  of  the  Cheyennes — Cold  Reception — GEN.  MILES — His  Expedition 
against  the  Sioux — Fighting  in  a  Snowstorm — The  Nez  Perce  Campaign — CHIEF 
JOSEPH — He  is  Tired — Nobody  Prevents  His  Taking  a  Rest — Plenty  of  Fighting 
Soon  Gives  Him  One— A  TJte  Outbreak— A  Battle— Death  of  Major  Thorn- 
burgh — Capt.  Payne's  Defense — Six  Days  Under  Fire — A  Reinforcement — The 
Colored  Troops  Fought  Nobly — An  Ounce  of  Prevention — Mutterings  of  the 
Storm  557-578 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


OUSTER'S  LAST  RALLY  ON  THE  LITTLE  BIG  HORN,  Full  Page,  Frontispiece. 
THE  PIONEER  SETTLER,     ....  Title  Vignette. 

FERDINAND   DE    SOTO,  .....  19 

SPANIARDS  ENSLAVING   INDIANS,  .  .  .  .25 

REPELLING   THE   LANDING,       ....       Full  Page        27 
AMBUSHING   SPANIARDS,  .  .  .  .  .30 

DE    SOTO'S   MARCH,      .  .  .  .  .  33 

THE  FIGHT  AT  MOBILE,      .  .  ,  .  .37 

DISCOVERY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI,       .  .  .     Full  Page,    40 

INDIAN   FLEET   MEETING   DE    SOTO,  .  .  .  .41 

BURIAL  OF  DE  SOTO,  .....  44 

DEPARTURE   OF   THE   SPANIARDS,  .  .  Full  Page,      45 

JACQUES   CARTIER,      ......  47 

SAMUEL  DE   CHAMPLAIN,  .  .  .  .  .50 

CHAMPLAIN   TAKES   THE   WAR   PATH,  .  .       Full  Page,      56 

JESUIT   MISSIONARY  PREACHING   TO   THE   INDIANS,  .  .          63 

MARQUETTE   DESCENDING   THE    MISSISSIPPI,  ...  65 

MONSO'S  VISIT,  .......       74 

ASSASSINATION  OF  LA  SALLE,  ....  80 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH,    .  .  .  .  .83 

BUILDING  OF  JAMESTOWN,    .....  86 

SMITH  SURPRISED  BY  THE  SAVAGES,     .  .  .  .90 

SMITH  SAVED  BY  POCAHONTAS,        .  .  .  .  93 

DESPERATE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  CHIEF  OF  THE  PASHIPHAYS,       .       99 
POCAHONTAS,  .  ...  .  .  .  103 

POCAHONTAS  PRESENTED  AT  COURT,       ....     107 

DESTRUCTION  OF  A  VIRGINIA  SETTLEMENT,  .  .  108 

LANDING  OF  THE  PILGRIMS,       .  .  .  .  .116 

FIRST  CHURCH  IN  NEW  ENGLAND,    ....  119 

SAMOSET'S  VISIT,  ......      121 

WINSLOW'S  VISIT  TO  MAssAsoiT,      .  .  .     Full  Page,  123 

SENDING  BACK  THE    SNAKE-SKIN,  .  .  Full  Page,    128 

STANDISH'S  ^IGHT  WITH  PECKSNOT,  .  .     Full  Page,  133 

AMBUSHING  SETTLERS,    ....  Full  Page,  139 

A  NARROW   BRIDGE   TO   VICTORY,         ....  142 

DEATH  OP  KING  PHILIP,  .  .  .  Full  Page,  144 

PURITAN  SETTLER  DEFENDING   HIS    HOME,      .  .       Full  Page,    146 

"SHOOT,  i  TELL  YOU,"  ......     148 

PUTNAM   IN   THE   WOLFFS    CAVE,  ....  151 

TAKING  CAPTIVES,          ....  Full  Page,  154 

GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM,     .....  159 


XVI  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PUTNAM    TORMENTED,        ......        165 

INDIAN    SQUAW   BETRAYING   PONTIAC's    CONSPIRACY,  .  169 

PONTIAC'S  VISIT 'TO  MAJOR  GLADWIN,  ....     170 
PUTNAM'S  PLIGHT  DOWN  THE  ROCKS  AT  HORSENECK,         .  173 

PONTIAC,  .......     174 

KILLING   OF   PONTIAC,  .....  175 

THE  COUNCIL  ON  A  TREE,          .....  187- 

BRADY'S  LEAP,          ......  190 

DANIEL  BOONE,   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  194 

CAPTURE  OF  BOONE  AND  STEWART,  .  .  .  195 

GENERAL  CLARKE   REJECTING   THE   PEACE    BELT,  Full  Page,    201 

INDIANS  ATTACKING   BOONESBOROUGH,    ....        203 
BOONE'S   INDIAN   TOILET,        .....  205 

BOONE   PURSUED   BY   THE   INDIANS,  .  .  Full  Page,    211 

WOMEN   GETTING  WATER   FOR   THE   FORT,       .  .  .  215 

ARRIVAL  OF   REINFORCEMENTS,    .  .  .  ..       217 

THE   TOBACCO   STRATAGEM,    .....  221 

THE  HUNTER'S  PARADISE,  .  .  .  Full  Page,  223 

THE  GRAVE  OF  BOONE,        .  .  .  .  226 

KENTON  RESCUING  BOONE,         .....     230 
KENTON'S  MAZEPPA  RIDE,     .....  233 

DESPERATE  EFFORT  TO  ESCAPE,  ....     235 

SIMON  GIRTY,  THE  RENEGADE,         .  .  .  239 

LEWIS  WETZEL  LOADING   WHILE  RUNNING — "HIM  GUN  ALWAYS 

LOADED,"  ......        249 

ANDY  POE'S  FIGHT  WITH  BiGFOOT,  .  .      Full  Page,  258 

MCCULLOCH'S  LEAP,         ......      262 

THE  OSAGES*  FATHER-IN-LAW,          ....  265 

A  CLOSE  SHAVE,  ......     269 

KILLING  THE  THIEF,  .  .  .  .  .  275 

GENERAL  WM.  H.  HARRISON,       .  .  .  .  .281 

ELSKWATAWA,  "  THE  PROPHET/'      ....  284 

"THE  EARTH  is  OUR  MOTHER" — GENERAL  HARRISON'S  COUNCIL 
WITH  TECUMSEH,  .....     290 

DEATH  OF  TECUMSEH,          .....  299 

DAVID  CROCKETT,  ......      306 

CROCKETT  ON  THE  STUMP,   .....  309 

CROCKETT'S  FIGHT  WITH  A  BEAR,         ....      312 

SHIPWRECKED  ON  THE  RIVER,         ....  316 

CROCKETT'S  FIRST  BUFFALO  HUNT,        ....      322 

DESPERATE  FIGHT  WITH  A  COUGAR,  .  .  .  323 

GENERAL  COS,     .......     324 

STORMING  OF  THE  ALAMO,  .....       325 
DEFENCE  OF  THE  ALAMO,       .....    326 

DEATH  OF  CROCKETT,  ....     Full  Page,  328 

MONUMENT   TO   THE   DEFENDERS    OF   THE  ALAMO,                 .                 .  329 

LAFITTE,    THE   PIRATE,               .....  333 

THE    MURDER   OF    HUNTER,'               .....  335 

HOUSTON   WOUNDED   IN   THE    CREEK  WAR,       .                 .                 .  337 

GENERAL  SANTA  ANNA,   ......  341 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

A  TEXAN   RANGER,     .  .  .  .  .  344 

GENERAL  SAM    HOUSTON,  .  .  .  .  .  347 

HOUSTON  DICTATING    ORDERS,  ....  351 

HOUSTON   AT    SAN   JACINTO,  .....  352 

THE   FINDING   OF    "  THE    MIGHTY   AND    GLORIOUS,"  .  353 

SANTA   ANNA  BEFORE    HOUSTON,  .....  354 

SURGERY  ON   THE   PLAINS,      .....  362 

CHRISTOPHER   CARSON,       .  .  .  .  .  .  364 

INDIAN   CAPTURING   HORSES,  ....  365 

A   NARROW  ESCAPE,  ......  367 

THE   PURSUIT   OF    THE   HORSE   THIEF,  .  .  .  369 

A  FIGHT  WITH   GRIZZLIES,  .....  370 

THE  SUMMER  RENDEZVOUS,  ....      Full  Page,  372 

CARSON'S  DUEL  WITH  THE  BRAGGART,  ....  374 

DEFENDING  A  FALLEN  COMRADE,     .  .  .  .  376 

INDIAN  WAR  DANCE,      ......  378 

CARSON'S  HOUSE  AT  TAGS,  .....  383 

FREMONT  RESCUED  BY  CARSON,  ....  388 

CARSON  SAVED  BY  FREMONT,  .  .  .  .  392 

MEXICAN  TOWNS  SURRENDERING  TO  GENERAL  KEARNEY,  Full  Page,    395 

GEN.  JOHN  C.  FREMONT,        .....  399 

GEN.  WM.  S.  HARNEY,      ......  404 

HARNEY'S  RACE  WITH  THE  INDIAN,  .  .  .  407 

ANOTHER  RACE  AND  A  COLD  BATH,       ....  408 

BLACK  HAWK,          .  .  .  .  .  .  411 

OSCEOLA,  .....  .  414 

A   TREATY   OF   WAR,  ......  416 

BILLY   BOWLEGS,  .  .  .  .  .  .  420 

IN   THE   EVERGLADES,  .....  422 

GEN.  WINFIELD   S.  SCOTT,  .....  425 

GEN.  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER,      ....      Full  Page,  431 

INDIANS   VIEWING  THE   PACIFIC   RAILROAD,  .  Full  Page,   434 

THE  EVENING  CONCERT,       ....      Full  Page,  439 

THE    ATTACK   ON   THE   WAGON-TRAIN,       .  .  Full  Page,   443 

GEN.  PHILIP   H.  SHERIDAN,     .....  446 

CALIFORNIA  JOE,  ......        450 

THE    SURPRISE   OF   THE    CHEYENNE   VILLAGE,  .        Full  Page,   455 

THE    MESSENGER   OF   DEFEAT,         .....        457 

A   BUFFALO   HUNT,      .  .  .  .  .  .  461 

THE  TRIANGLE  RIDE,      ....  Full  Page,  464 

CAPTURE  OF  RAIN-IN-THE-FACE,       ....  467 

"WE  HAVE  KILLED 'THEM  ALL!" — THE  MESSENGER  OF  VICTORY,  472 
WILD  BILL  SHOOTING  WOLVES,        ....  475 

WILD  BILL  (j.  B.  HICKOK),         .....      478 

WILD    BILL'S   FIGHT  WITH   THE   BEAR,  .  .  .  480 

FIGHT   WITH   THE   MCCANDLAS    GANG,        .  .  .  .  482 

TAKING   TO  THE   WATER,          .....  486 

KILLING   THE   SLEEPING    SENTINEL,  ....  490 

CONQUERING   BEAR,  .....  494 

SPOILING  FOR  A  FIGHT,  .....  496 


XV111  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"AIN'T  YOU  SATISFIED?"     .....  498 

WILD  BILLYS  FIGHT  WITH  FIFTEEN  SOLDIERS,    .  .  .      502 

THE  MURDER  OF   WILD  BILL,  ....  509 

BILLINGS  AS  A  BOCARRO,  .  .  .  Full  Page,  514 

BILLY   KILLS   HIS   FIRST   INDIAN,         ....  517 

THE   DEPARTURE   OF   THE    STAGES,  .  .  Full  Page,    522 

THE   ATTACK  ON   THE   STAGE,  .  .  .        Full  Page,    523 

ESCAPING  FROM   THE   HORSE-THIEVES,      ....        526 

AFTER  THE  SURPRISE,  ....      Full  Page,  530 

BUFFALO   BILL   (W.   F.    CODY),        .....        533 

"  KEEP  OFF  !  " A  CENTER  SHOT,     ....  536 

"  HOW,  HOW  ! "    .  .  .  .  .  .  .540 

MAKING  BUFFALOES  FURNISH  THEIR  OWN  TRANSPORTATION,  .  543 

THE  SHOOTING  OF  TALL  BULL,  .                        ...  546 

"LOOK  OUT!"          ......  547 

SHOWING  THE  GRAND  DUKE  HOW  TO  KILL  BUFFALOES,            .  549 

AN  ARROW  THROUGH  A  BUFFALO,   ....  551 

TEXAS  JACK  (J.  B.  OMOHUNDRO),           ....  552 

THE  FIRST  SCALP  FOR  CUSTER,        ....  555 

MASSACRE   OF    MINNESOTA   SETTLERS,        .  .  Full  Page,  556 

THE   NOBLE   RED    MAN    OF    THE    POETS,  .  .  .  558 

THE   REAL  ARTICLE,  ......  559 

GEN.   E.   R.    S.    CANBY,  .....  560 

THE  MODOC  STRONGHOLD,  .  .  .  Full  Page,  561 

THE   FIGHT   IN   THE   LAVA   BEDS,        .                 .                 .        Full  Page,  563 

CAPTAIN   JACK,    .......  564 

HOOKER  JIM,                  ......  565 

SCHONCHIN,             .                 .                 .                 .                 .                                   .  565 

BOSTON  CHARLEY,        ......  565 

SHACK  NASTY   JIM,             .                 .                 .                 .                                   .  565 

GEN.    C.    H.    CROOK,                      „  567 

THE   BATTLE   ON   THE   ROSEBUD,                     .                 .                Full  Page,  568 

AN  OASIS  IN  THE  DESERT,  .  .  .     Full  Page,  571 

THE   INDIAN   CAMP,  ......  572 

GENERAL   N.    A.    MILES,  .....  575 

GENERAL   O.    O.    HOWARD,  .....  576 

CAPTAIN   D.    L.    PAYNE  (THE    CIMARRON   SCOUT),         .  .  577 


PIONEER  HEROES 


AND 

DARING    DEEDS 


•o— 


CHAPTER  I. 


FEKDIKAJTO  DE  SOTO. 

little  walled  town  of  Xeres,  one  hundred  and  thirty 
JL  miles  southwest  of  Madrid,  is  like  plenty  of  other  Spanish 
towns,  though  it  would  look  strange  to  our  eyes.  Around  its 
walls  rise  hills  on  which  are  built 
the  strong,  rude  castles  of  the 
old  nobility ;  fallen  into  ruins 
now,  and  not  far  from  that  three 
hundred  years  ago.  In  one  of 
the  oldest  and  most  ruinous  of 
these  was  born,  in  the  year  1500, 
a  boy,  who  was  named  Ferdi- 
nand de  Soto.  A  poor  Spaniard 
is  the  proudest  man  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  and  his  pride  grows 
with  the  growth  of  his  poverty. 
The  parents  of  this  boy  had  noble 
blood  and  the  old  castle;  he 
could  not  be  allowed  to  engage 
in  any  kind  of  work,  for  that  would  be  a  disgrace  to  his  family; 
so  he  grew  up  in  honorable  idleness. 

So  poor  was  the  elder  De  Soto  that  he  could  not  afford  to  edu- 
cate his  son  in  accordance  with  his  rank.  We  can  imagine  the  life 
which  the  boy  led ;  taught,  perhaps,  by  some  old  servant  the  manly 
accomplishments  in  which  he  became  proficient  at  an  early  age. 
His  natural  advantages  were  very  great,  and  the  tall,  well-formed, 
2 


FERDINAND  DE   SOTO. 


20  FERDINAND    DE    SOTO. 

active,  handsome  youth  seemed  to  have  a  natural  aptitude  for 
horsemanship,  fencing,  and  other  necessary  acquirements  of  the 
time.  Such  was  the  beauty  of  his  person  and  the  grace  and 
dignity  of  his  bearing  that  the  young  De  Soto  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  a  wealthy  nobleman,  Don  Pedro  Arias  de  Avila,  and 
was  by  him  adopted,  and  sent  to  be  educated  at  one  of  the  Spanish 
universities.  When  this  happened,  he  was  seventeen  years  old  ; 
old  enough  to  have  acquired  considerable  skill  in  riding  and  fenc- 
ing, and  literary  culture  was  not  necessary  for  a- nobleman.  Such 
was  the  progress,  as  shown  in  frequent  tournaments,  that  he  was 
soon  regarded  as  one  who  was  likely  to  become  the  mirror  of 
knighthood. 

"While  De  Soto  was  still  at  the  university,  his  patron  had  been 
appointed  governor  at  Darien,  whence,  in  1519,  he  returned  to 
Spain  to  arrange  his  affairs  for  a  longer  stay.  His  adopted  son 
was  very  useful  to  him  in  many  ways,  and  was  treated  like  a  be- 
loved child.  De  Avila,  however,  really  considered  him  as  little 
more  than  a  beggar  living  on  his  bounty,  and  when,  a  few  months 
after  his  return,  the  young  man  asked  the  hand  of  his  second 
daughter,  Donna  Isabella,  his  rage  was  equalled  only  by  his  as- 
tonishment. He  answered  contemptuously,  and  dismissed  it  from 
his  mind.  But  his  daughter  threatened  to  retire  into  a  convent ; 
De  Avila  knew  that  she  had  inherited  from  him  a  strong  will  and 
unyielding  spirit ;  so  he  resolved  to  defeat  the  youthful  lovers  by 
strategy. 

De  Soto  had  retired  to  his  father's  ruined  castle,  there  to  med- 
itate upon  his  failure  and  its  causes.  He  was  of  as  noble  a  family 
as  Donna  Isabella,  and  had  the  education  and  bearing  of  a  gen- 
tleman; his  moral  character  was  unspotted  —  far  better  than  De 
Avila' s  own.  The  one  thing  lacking  was  wealth.  For  this  had 
his  suit  been  rejected  with  contempt ;  riches  should  be  the  object 
of  his  ambition.  When  a  man  proposes  this  as  the  end  of  all  his 
work,  when  every  effort  is  bent  to  the  achievement  of  this  pur- 
pose, he  becomes — what  De  Soto  became. 

Casting  about  for  some  scheme  which  should  prevent  Donna  Isa- 
bella's marrying  this  penniless  young  nobleman,  or  burying  her- 
self in  a  convent,  De  Avila  at  first  decided  that  he  would  have  the 
suitor  assassinated.  ButDeSoto's  death  by  such  means  would 
drive  her  to  desperation  as  surely  as  anything  that  his  ingenuity 
could  devise.  With  the  cunning  for  which  he  was  notorious,  he  hit 
upon  a  plan  which  was  satisfactory.  De  Soto  had  determined  that 


FERDINAND    DE  SOTO.  21 

the  wealth  of  the  newly  discovered  continent  was  the  best  source 
at  which  to  enrich  himself,  and  would  have  offered  his  services  to 
the  captain  of  one  of  the  many  expeditions  that  were  being  fitted 
out ;  but  he  had  no  means  to  obtain  the  necessary  outfit.  To  De 
Avila  he  would  not  go,  and  from  no  other  source  could  he  ob- 
tain help. 

In  the  midst  of  his  perplexity,  a  most  unexpected  offer  came. 
The  crafty  old  Spaniard,  well  knowing  what  dangers  could  be 
thrust  as  honors  upon  his  subordinates,  proffered  a  captain's 
commission  and  outfit  to  our  hero,  with  the  prospect  of  acquiring 
unlimited  wealth  in  the  proposed  invasion  of  Peru.  Yet  he 
worded  his  invitation  so  courteously  as  to  make  De  Soto  feel 
that  his  knightly  prowess  was  the  reason  why  it  was  given,  and 
that  his  expected  services  would  be  of  great  value.  Arrived  at 
Darien,  DeSoto  was  constantly  employed  upon  the  most  danger- 
ous missions.  De  Avila  had  reversed  the  policy  of  his  predeces- 
sor in  office,  Balboa,  who  had  won  the  hearts  of  the  Indians,  al- 
ways disposed  to  treat  Europeans  well ;  and  had  inflicted  the 
greatest  cruelties  imaginable  upon  the  gentle  and  unoffending 
natives.  His  underlings  were  encouraged  in  all  kinds  of  wanton 
barbarity;  and  the  cruelty  which  in  Spain  fed  upon  the  blood  of 
heretics,  in  the  New  "World  hunted  down  the  Indians  as  if  they 
had  been  wild  beasts.  Torn  limb  from  limb  by  blood-hounds, 
mutilated  by  the  axe,  burned  at  the  stake — such  were  the  pun- 
ishments inflicted  upon  them  for  the  atrocious  crime  of  being 
American  aborigines. 

De  Soto  had  resolved  to  become  rich,  at  any  cost  but  his  hon- 
or ;  this  he  could  not  sacrifice,  and  often  he  must  disobey  the  or- 
ders of  the  governor.  One  instance  out  of  many,  say  his  contem- 
porary historians,  has  come  down  to  us.  Don  Pedro  had  re- 
solved, for  some  trifling  reason,  that  a  certain  Indian  village 
should  be  destroyed,  and  sent  Capt.  Perez,  a  man  after  his  own 
heart,  to  De  Soto,  with  orders  for  the  latter  to  proceed  against 
it  with  his  troops.  The  village  was  to  be  burned,  and  every  liv- 
ing creature  in  it  put  to  the  sword.  The  messenger  was  per- 
mitted to  detail  the  whole  plan  of  procedure;  when  he  had  fin- 
ished, De  Soto,  who  felt  such  a  commission  an  insult,  answered  : 

"  Tell  the  governor  that  my  life  and  services  are  always  at  his 
disposal  when  the  duty  to  be  performed  is  such  as  may  become  a 
Christian  and  a  gentleman.  But  in  the  present  case,  Capt.  Perez, 
I  think  that  Don  Pedro  would  have  shown  more  discretion  by 


ZZ  FERDINAND    DE    SOTO. 

intrusting  you  with  this  commission,  instead  of  sending  you  with 
the  order  to  myself." 

Don  Pedro  heard  the  answer  with  joy — it  was  just  what  he  de- 
sired. With  a  grim  smile,  he  said  to  the  messenger,  who  was  a 
noted  duelist,  never  failing  to  kill  his  antagonist : 

"Well,  my  friend,  if  you,  who  area  vigorous  young  soldier, 
can  patiently  endure  De  Soto's  insolence,  I  see  no  reason  why  an 
infirm  old  man  like  myself  should  not  show  equal  forbearance/' 

Stung  to  the  quick  by  this  taunt,  the  fiery  Spaniard  lost  no 
time  in  challenging  his  comrade.  The  duel  was  then  the  recog- 
nized way  of  deciding  any  quarrel  between  gentlemen,  and  this 
took  place  in  the  presence  of  all  the  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
colony.  Contrary  to  general  expectation,  De  Soto  succeeded  in 
disarming  his  antagonist,  and  although  the  latter  was  silent  when 
the  victor  bade  him  ask  for  his  life,  spared  him,  sheathing  his 
sword  with  the  remark  : 

"A  life  that  is  not  worth  asking  for  is  not  worth  taking." 

Perez,  ashamed  of  being  thus  defeated  by  a  stripling,  who  had 
as  yet  attained  but  little  fame  as  a  soldier,  threw  up  his  commis- 
sion and  went  back  to  Spain. 

De  Soto  continued  to  preserve  his  self-respect,  even  though  it 
taught  him  to  despise  his  superior  officers.  A  man  of  his  discern- 
ment could  not  help  seeing  that  they  were  a  disgrace  to  the 
country  which  they  represented,  and  the  chivalrous  young  ad- 
venturer took  no  pains  to  conceal  his  contempt.  De  Avila' s 
hatred  for  him  increased,  and  the  young  captain  was  warned 
solemnly  by  a  friendly  astrologer,  whose  life  he  had  saved,  that 
the  utmost  caution  would  be  necessary  if  he  would  avoid  a  dis- 
graceful death.  This  friend,  who  was  suspected  of  dealing  in 
magic,  professed  to  gather  his  information  from  the  stars,  but  the 
probability  is  that  he  only  betrayed  the  confidence  of  the  governor. 
De  Avila  dare  not  persecute  his  enemy  too  openly,  however ; 
both  because  of  the  effect  which  it  would  have  on  his  daughter, 
and  because  he  felt  that  one  more  abuse  of  his  power  might  be 
fatal.  But  an  honorable  death  in  battle,  he  determined,  should  be 
the  young  man's  fate.  De  Soto  felt  the  danger  to  which  he  was 
exposed;  so  far 'as  the  object  of  his  coming  to  the  New  World 
was  concerned,  he  had  failed ;  he  could  not  acquire  wealth,  as  his 
companions  did,  by  murder  and  robbery ;  for  five  years  he  had 
held  no  communication  with  Donna  Isabella,  their  letters  having 
be. en.  intercepted  by  De  Avila,  As  the  term  of  the  governor's 


FERDINAND  DE  SOTO.  23 

authority  drew  to  a  close,  since  his  successor  was  on  his  way  to 
America,  De  Soto  even  received  sentence  of  death  for  opposing 
the  execution  of  an  innocent  man,  but  fortunately  for  our  story, 
was  pardoned  by  the  new  ruler.  He  had  before  this  been  urged 
by  Pizarro  to  join  an  exploring  expedition  of  which  the  latter 
was  commander,  but  had  refused,  not  choosing  to  submit  himself 
to  this  base-born  adventurer.  NOT  was  the  character  of  Pizarro's 
followers  such  as  to  tempt  a  man  of  knightly  renown  and  truth 
to  his  standard.  They  never,  on  their  earlier  expeditions,  made 
an  attack,  except  where  the  hope  of  plunder  was  the  obvious 
inducement  and  there  was  but  little  danger  of  resistance.  But 
De  Soto  wished  to  escape  from  the  dangerous  neighborhood  of 
De  Avila,  who  was  now  governor  of  Nicaragua ;  he  had  been 
employed  in  various  exploring  expeditions,  but  in  spite  of  being 
ten  years  and  more  in  this  new  country,  he  had  not  become  any 
wealthier.  But  the  long  association  with  these  men  had  weaken- 
ed his  moral  sense ;  he  had  played  with  pitch  and  been  defiled. 
Pizarro,  determining  upon  another  expedition,  offered  him  a  po- 
sition second  only  to  his  own,  and  the  offer  was  accepted.  With 
his  characteristic  independence,  however,  De  Soto  did  not 
hesitate  to  reject  orders  which  were  contrary  to  his  sense  of  pru- 
dence or  of  right.  Pizarro  readily  ignored  this  insubordination, 
as  he  was  by  no  means  brave  enough  to  quarrel  with  any  but 
helpless  persons. 

The  conquest'of  Peru  was  a  series  of  dreadful  massacres,  com- 
mitted without  provocation  upon  a  peaceful  and  helpless  people. 
How  much  part  De  Soto  took  in  this  so-called  war  cannot  now 
be  determined  ;  the  Spanish  historians  endeavor  to  cover  up  the 
crimes  of  their  countrymen  with  excuses,  and  to  increase  the 
glory  of  the  leader  by  every  possible  means  ;  it  is  probable  that 
De  Soto  was,  to  some  extent,  an  innocent  tool  in  the  hands  of 
Pizarro  and  his  brothers.  His  manly  bearing,  his  open  and  hon- 
orable candor,  his  personal  appearance,  all  doubtless  contributed 
to  increase  the  trust  of  the  too  credulous  Peruvians  in  the  good 
intentions  of  the  Spaniards.  Whatever  repugnance  he  may  have 
had  to  their  acts  of  cruelty,  he  continued  to  be  one  of  their  num- 
ber; and  although  he  endeavored  to  lessen  the  ransom  of  the 
unfortunate  Inca  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power,  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  accept  his  share,  which  amounted  to  a  sum  equal  to  more  than 
a  quarter-million  dollars  of  our  money.  Let  us  do  him  the  just- 
ice, however,  to  record  that  the  perfidious  murder  of  the  monarch 


24  FERDINAND   DE   SOT6. 

took  place  during  his  absence  on  an  errand  that  Pizarro  devised 
for  the  purpose,  and  that,  on  his  return,  his  anger  was  real,  his 
disgust  sincere. 

Let  us  pass  rapidly  over  the  remainder  of  this  time,  when  he 
was  the  lieutenant  of  a  man  who  never  hesitated  to  defraud  or 
deceive  any  one  about  him.  The  plan  was  carried  out,  and  Peru 
obliged  to  submit  to  the  ruffian  Spaniard.  But  in  Spain,  at  least, 
it  was  known  that  De  Soto  was  the  only  one  of  the  invading  force 
that  could  be  called  a  hero ;  that  without  his  courage  and  pru- 
dence the  expedition  would  have  been  the  most  miserable  of  fail- 
ures. Returning  to  his  transatlantic  home,  he  found  that  his 
reputation  had  preceded  him,  and  he  was  everywhere  received 
with  the  most  nattering  distinction.  All  classes  looked  upon  him 
as  the  model  of  what  a  man  should  be.  His  dearest  hope  was 
fulfilled  in  his  union  with  Donna  Isabella,  and  the  happy  couple 
were  received  at  court  with  the  highest  marks  of  favor.  As  a  re- 
ward for  his  services,  the  king  conferred  upon  him  the  title  of 
Marquis,  and  his  society  was  sought  by  the  most  distinguished 
nobles  of  the  land.  His  style  of  living  was  in  accordance  with 
the  extent  of  his  newly  acquired  fortune;  indeed,  such  magnifi- 
cence reigned  in  the  mansion  which  he  had  bought  that,  after 
living  two  years  in  Seville,  he  found  that  one-half  of  his  wealth 
was  gone. 

He  thereupon  determined  to  embark  upon  another  adventure 
of  a  similar  character.  The  Spaniards  laid  claim  to  North  as 
well  as  to  South  America  -}  those  few  who  had  returned  from  a  pre- 
vious expedition  under  De  Narvaez  had  given  glowing  accounts 
of  the  immense  treasures  of  Florida,  as  the  whole  region  north  of 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  was  called.  The  adventurers  had  told  also  of 
the  character  of  the  natives  ;  the  Indians  in  the  southern  latitudes 
they  had  found  peaceful  and  unresisting ;  these  were  fierce  and 
powerful.  De  Soto's  brave  soul  had  revolted  at  the  sight  of  the 
atrocious  cruelties  practiced  upon  the  unoffending  and  defense- 
less Indians  of  the  south;  these  sterner  natives  of  the  north 
would  be  foemen  more  worthy  of  such  a  conqueror  as  himself. 
Hoping  to  find  both  gold  and  glory  in  Florida,  he  requested  per- 
mission from  the  king. to  imdertake  the  conquest  at  his  own  ex- 
pense. As  he  did  not  desire  any  aid  from  the  royal  treasury, 
his  proposition  was  readily  assented  to,  and  he  was  created  Gov- 
ernor of  Cuba  and  President  of  Florida. 

He  had  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  recruits.     Aside  from  the 


DE    SOTO. 


hopes  of  wealth  in  which  all  indulged,  it  would  be  an  honor  to 
serve  under  so  distinguished  a  commander.  His  own  position 
was  such  that  the  Spaniards  thought  success  assured,  since  he 
risked  the  glorious  reputation  and  immense  wealth  which  he  had 
already  acquired.  They  flocked  to  his  standard  from  all  sides  ; 
property  was  sacrificed  to  procure  suitable  outfits;  one  man,  it 
is  recorded,  had  to  take  his  wife  with  him,  since  there  was  noth-> 
ing  left  to  maintain  her.  So  great  was  the  number  that  it  was 
impossible  for  all  to  go,  and  some  who  had  sold  their  estates  for 
their  equipment  were  obliged  to  remain  at  home.  De  Soto  select- 
ed for  his  companions  six  hundred ;  according  to  some  authori- 


SPANTAKDS   ENSLAVING  INDIANS. 


ties,  a  thousand  of  the  aspirants ;  and  in  the  early  part  of  April, 
1538,  they  embarked  in  ten  ships  for  the  El  Dorado  that  they  ex- 
pected to  find.  Donna  Isabella  refused  to  be  again  separated 
from  him  by  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  accompanied  the  expedition 
as  far  as  Havana. 

Some  time  was  spent  in  Cuba,  in  feasting  and  merry-making. 
An  old  and  wealthy  Cuban,  who  was  anxious  to  obtain  a  number 
of  Indians  as  slaves  to  work  his  mines,  was  made  lieutenant,  in 
place  of  RTuno  de  Tobar,  whom  De  Soto  deprived  of  his  office. 
Here,  too,  they  obtained  a  supply  of  excellent  horses,  the  island 
having  been  well  stocked  with  these  animals  by  the  first  settlers. 


26  FERDINAND   DE   SOTO. 

"All  went  merry  as  a  marriage-bell, "  and  although  the  previous 
expeditions  had  all  been  extremely  unfortunate,  no  one  dreamed 
but  that  this  would  be  crowned  with  the  most  brilliant  success. 

Setting  sail  from  Havana  May  18,  1538,  the  voyage  was  so  pro- 
longed by  contrary  winds  that  it  was  a  week  before  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  coast  of  Florida.  Two  leagues  from  the  shore  they 
dropped  anchor,  the  shallow  water  preventing  a  nearer  approach. 
They  already  began  to  see  the  difficulties  which  would  surround 
them ;  for  beacon-fires  kindled  upon  the  beach  by  the  natives 
gave  the  Indians  farther  off  intelligence  of  their  coming.  The 
earlier  explorers  had  been  received  by  the  aborigines  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  and  as  in  the  other  parts  of  America  which  the 
Spaniards  had  settled,  had  been  treated  with  the  most  wanton 
cruelty.  Less  forgiving  than  their  southern  brethren,  the  most 
deeply  injured  chief  became  the  implacable  enemy  of  the  white 
man.  Their  countrymen  had  sown  the  wind,  and  the  history  of 
the  next  four  years  shows  how  De  Soto  and  companions  reaped 
the  whirlwind. 

The  Indians  soon  gathered  upon  the  shore,  and  with  hostile 
demonstrations  showed  their  evident  purpose  of  opposing  the 
disembarkation  of  the  troops;  so  De  Soto,  not  choosing  to  come 
into  collision  with  the  natives  immediately,  gav-e  orders  to  pro- 
ceed about  two  leagues  farther  up  the  bay  (Tampa),  and  land 
there.  This  was  in  what  is  now  known  as  Hillsboro  bay,  a 
branch  of  that  more  important  one  on  the  western  coast  of  the 
present  state  of  Florida  already  mentioned. 

It  seems  hardly  possible  that  De  Soto,  after  his  experiences  in 
Central  and  South  America,  should  not  have  known  why  the  In- 
dians did  not  receive  him  and  his  followers  as  they  had  received 
his  predecessors  in  the  work  of  exploration.  Such  seems  to  be 
the  case,  however ;  for  when,  after  they  had  proceeded  about 
ten  miles  inland,  two  or  three  fugitive  Indians  were  captured  and 
brought  to  him,  and  told  him,  in  reply  to  his  questions,  of  the 
inhumanities  practiced  by  De  Narvaez,  he  saw,  for  the  first  time, 
if  we  may  believe  the  chroniclers,  a  new  and  unfailing  source  of 
danger.  He  endeavored,  however,  to  propitiate  the  chief,  Ucita, 
who  hail  received  such  great  injuries — the  mutilation  of  his  per- 
son, and  murder  of  his  mother, — and  loading  these  captives  with 
presents,  sent  them  with  friendly  messages  to  their  chief. 

"  Bring  me  no  speeches  or  promises  frorti  these  men,"  exclaim- 
ed the  justly  indignant  savage ;  "  I  want  only  their  heads ! " 


FERDINAND  DE  SOTO. 


28  FERDINAND  i>E  sotfo. 

Do  Soto  knew  the  power  of  Ucita,  and  the  strength  of  his  tribe j 
he  knew  that  this  chief  must  be  concilated  by  every  means  in  his 
power  ;  that  if  it  were  necessary  for  the  Spaniards  to  retreat  to 
their  ships,  they  ought  not  to  have  such  an  enemy  between  them 
and  the  sea.  But  Ucita  received  all  the  messages  and  presents 
sent  him  as  he  had  received  the  first. 

DC  Soto  had  been  especially  unfortunate  in  his  choice  of  a  lieu- 
tenant whose  object  was  so  far  at  variance  with  his  own.  The 
Cuban,  Yasco  Porcallo,  however,  soon  desired  to  retire  from  the 
service,  and  was  permitted  to  do  so.  He  was  greatly  offended  at 
what  he  considered  Ucita' s  unreasonable  obstinacy  in  returning 
the  presents  of  the  Spaniards  and  refusing  to  hold  friendly  inter- 
course with  them,  and  requested  permission  to  punish  the  cacique. 
Having  received  De  Soto's  approval  of  the  undertaking,  he  made 
all  the  preparations  which  he  considered  necessary  for  his  pur- 
pose, boasting  that  he  would  bring  with  him,  when  he  returned, 
the  insolent  chief  and  as  many  of  his  people  as  could  be  conveni- 
iently  transported  to  Cuba.  Arraying  himself  in  a  suit  of  glitter- 
ing armor,  and  mounting  a  very  fine  horse,  he  set  out,  at  the  head 
of  his  troop  of  horsemen,  in  a  style  befitting  a  knight  going  to  a 
tournament.  His  ardor,  whether  arising  from  his  anger  at  the 
chief  or  his  desire  of  obtaining  slaves,  so  hastened  him  onward 
that  his  followers  were  scarcely  able  to  keep  up  with  him.  Coming 
to  the  edge  of  a  bog,  they  remonstrated  with  him,  telling  him 
that  it  was  impassable  for  horsemen  as  heavily  accoutered  as 
they  were.  But  he  would  not  listen  to  them,  and  to  prove  that 
they  were  wrong  dashed  into  the  morass.  Here  his  steed  strug- 
gled and  plunged  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  fell  so  that  Por- 
callo's  leg  was  caught  under  the  animal's  body.  Deeper  and 
deeper  they  sank,  and  although  the  danger  was  imminent,  the 
soldiers  did  not  attempt  to  restrain  their  merriment.  At  length 
he  crawled  out,  his  shining  armor  encrusted  with  a  thick  coat  of 
black  slime,  and  the  fire  of  his  courage  completely  quenched.  Re- 
signing his  commission,  he  left  behind  him  all  the  hopes  of  win- 
ning new  laurels  and  acquiring  a  new  source  of  wealth,  and 
went  back  to  Cuba  to  mourn  over  the  loss  of  his  expensive  outfit. 

A  slave-hunting  expedition  of  Porcallo's  had,  however,  proved 
very  fortunate ;  not  indeed  to  himself,  but  to  the  little  army.  It 
had  resulted  in  their  meeting  with  a  Spaniard  of  the  parry  of  De 
lN"arvaez,  one  Juan  Ortiz,  who  had  been  captured  and  condemned 
to  death  by  Ucita,  but  by  the  aid  of  the  cacique's  daughter, 


FERDINAND  DE  soTdi 

had  escaped  to  the  more  merciful  prince  to  whom  she  was  be- 
trothed. Through  him,  his  friend,  the  cacique  Mocoso,  became 
theirs,  and  later  provided  them  with  a  guide. 

Being  ready  to  penetrate  still  farther  into  the  heart  of  the 
country,  the  ships  were  sent  back  to  Cuba.  The  reason  for  such 
action  has  been  questioned  very  often  •  one  solution  offered  being 
that  De  Soto  desired  to  show  his  men  that  there  was  no  hope  of 
return.  We  can  easily  account  for  it  in  this  way,  without  sup- 
posing that  they  needed  such  a  spur;  he  could  not  leave  enough 
men  to  defend  the  vessels  without  seriously  crippling  his  force,  and 
if  left  unguarded,  they  would  be  destroyed  by  the  Indians.  Care- 
fully calculating  the  time  that  would  probably  be  required  for 
the  proposed  journey,  he  despatched  the  ships  to  Cuba  with  di- 
rections to  return  with  a  supply  of  provisions  and  other  neces- 
saries at  the  expiration  of  that  period. 

With  the  guide  furnished  by  Mocoso,  a  small  party  was  de- 
spatched northward  to  explore  the  country.  About  seventeen 
leagues  to  the  north  of  the  main  camp,  they  came  upon  an  Indian 
village,  the  inhabitants  of  which  had  heard  of  their  coming,  and 
taken  to  the  woods  in  terror.  A  deputation  soon  arrived  from 
the  cacique,  offering  any  service  in  their  power.  Don  Balthasar 
G-allegos,  the  leader,  put  the  messengers  in  chains,  to  show  his 
appreciation  of  the  kindness  shown  him,  and  required  them  to 
inform  him  where  he  cou4d  find  a  land  abounding  in  gold  and 
silver.  The  crafty  natives  made  reply  that  far  to  the  northwest 
was  a  land  of  everlasting  summer,  and  of  inestimable  wealth ; 
that  the  people  there  wore  hats  or  helmets  of  gold  ;  and  similar 
stories.  Incredible  as  they  appear  to  us,  the  Spaniards  accepted 
these  tales  as  true,  and  Grallegos  hastily  despatched  eight  of  his 
men  to  take  the  news  to  De  Soto.  To  use  the  words  of  the  Port- 
uguese narrator  who  is  one  of  the  chief  authorities  for  this  histo- 
ry :  "  De  Soto  and  all  his  soldiers  were  very  much  comforted 
by  the  assurance  that  their  toils  were  about  to  be  rewarded  by 
the  discovery  of  another  Peru."  As  the  toils  increased,  the  "com- 
fort" diminished. 

De  Soto  determined  to  follow  Gallegos  immediately,  and  leav- 
ing Captain  Calderon  with  a  troop  of  forty  men  to  protect  the 
ships  on  their  return,  set  out  with  the  main  body  of  the  army. 
But  he  met  with  many  difficulties.  Mocoso,  the  only  chief  at  all 
friendly  to  the  Spaniards,  refused  to  furnish  guides  ;  the  conduct 
of  Grallegos  had  stirred  up  a  violent  opposition  from  the  Indians ; 


FERDINAND 


sOTO. 


and  by  these  the  difficulties  of  the  way  were  considerably  in- 
creased. Rushing  out  from  the  thickets  by  which  the  Spaniards 
passed,  the  nimble  Indians  would  discharge  a  flight  of  arrows  in- 
to the  ranks  of  the  white  men,  and  return  to  the  shelter  from 
which  they  had  emerged  before  the  clumsier  soldiers  could  lay 
hold  of  their  weapons.  Many  of  De  Soto's  men  were  killed  and 
wounded  by  these  sudden  assailants. 

The  morasses  so  common  in  that  part  of  Florida  offered  an- 
other serious  difficulty.  A  short  time  after  meeting  with  Galle- 
gos  and  his  party,  they  came  to  Long  Swamp,  as  it  is  now  called, 
more  than  a  league  in  breadth.  After  searching  for  several  days 
for  a  path  which  would  lead  across  it,  they  built  rafts,  but  were 
two  days  in  crossing.  Mounted  men  were  sent  ahead  to  find 
some  practicable  pathway  through  the  untraveled  wilderness, 

but  were  often  killed  by  Indians, 
who  shot  their  fatal  arrows  from 
the  shelter  of  trees.  Several  pris- 
oners were  taken,  and  compelled 
to  act  as  guides,  but  were  more  faith- 
ful to  their  people  than  to  their  cap- 
tors; purposely  misleading  them, 
and  then  pretending  to  have  mis- 
taken their  way.  Angry  at  the  de- 
ception, the  Spaniards  delivered 
two  or  three  of  them  to  the  blood- 
hounds; but  they  died  bravely,  re- 
gretting, like  an  American  of  later 
date,  that  each  "  had  but  one  life  to 
give  for  his  country." 

Having  crossed  a  second  morass, 
and  a  sluggish  stream,  where  they 
lost,  by  the  Indian  arrows,  some 
men  who  were  engaged  in  repairing 
a  bridge  that  had  been  destroyed 
to  delay  them,  they  took  several 
prisoners,  of  the  tribe  of  the  cacique 
of  Acuera.  De  Soto  treated  these 
with  much  kindness,  and  sent  them 
AMBUSHING  SPANIARDS.  with  presents  to  propose  a  treaty  to 

their  cacique.     The  chief  replied  that  with  such  as  the  Spaniards 
he  wished  to  be  always  at  war,  and  that  the  only  kindness  they 


FERDINAND    DE    SOTO.  31 

could  do  him  or  his  people  was  to  leave  the  country.  In  this  he 
persisted,  notwithstanding  De  Soto's  earnest  efforts  to  conclude  a 
peace  with  him.  Threats  were  added  to  his  refusal,  and  the  army 
was  seriously  annoyed  during  the  twenty  days  which  they  stayed 
on  the  edge  of  his  territory,  fourteen  Spaniards  being  killed.  The 
Indians  could  not  be  drawn  into  an  open  battle,  and  De  Soto,  seeing 
that  the  loss  was  all  on  his  side  and  would  before  long  seriously  im- 
pair his  strength,  withdrew  to  Ocala,  forty  miles  farther  north. 
The  village,  the  largest  they  had  yet  seen,  was  deserted.  They 
had  hoped  to  find  provisions  here,  but  were  disappointed.  They 
had  consumed  their  whole  stock  of  food  and  were  sorely  pressed 
by  hunger.  They  soon  found  themselves,  however,  in  a  country 
that  by  its  appearance  promised  better  things.  Extensive  corn 
fields  gave  them  hopes  of  abundant  food  for  themselves,  their 
horses  and  the  drove  of  hogs  they  had  brought;  the  ground  was 
firm,  no  morasses  appearing,  and  the  way  no  longer  lay  through 
thick  forests.  But  still  they  met  with  the  same  opposition  on 
the  part  of  the  natives,  who  very  naturally  distrusted  the  coun- 
trymen of  those  who  had,  years  before,  used  them  so  cruelly. 
Nor  did  this  feeling  confine  its  expression  to  threats. 

One  cacique,  Vitacucho,  invited  the  Spaniards  to  visit  him,  and 
for  some  time  entertained  them  with  every  care  which  hospitality 
could  command ;  having  plotted  a  massacre  when  the  Spaniards 
should  be  completely  off  their  guard.  Four  of  De  Soto's  Indian 
interpreters  were  intrusted  with  the  secret,  and  the  fact  that  they 
betrayed  their  countrymen  to  him  shows  that  he  must  have  treated 
them  with  something  of  kindness.  De  Soto  feigned  ignorance  of 
the  plan,  however,  and  trusted  to  his  own  address  to  save  his 
men. 

When  Yitacucho  had  arranged  everything  to  his  satisfaction, 
he  invited  De  Soto  to  witness  a  display  of  his  forces.  The  gov- 
ernor accepted  this  invitation — he  could  not  well  do  otherwise, — 
and,  under  pretense  of  showing  the  greater  respect  to  the  chief, 
ordered  his  soldiers  to  appear  completely  armed  as  if  for  battle. 
The  cacique  liked  this  as  little  as  De  Soto  liked  the  invitation, 
but,  like  him,  could  make  no  objection.  With  the  appearance  of 
the  closest  friendship  the  two  commanders  walked  side  by  side  to 
the  field  where  the  two  armies  were  drawn  up. 

Several  thousand  warriors,  young  and  athletic  men,  with  nod- 
ding plumes  of  the  swan  and  heron  that  made  them  look  like 
giants,  were  placed  between  an  impervious  thicket  on  one  hand 


FERDINAND    DE    SOTO. 

and  two  small  lakes  on  the  other.  They  appeared  to  be  unarmed, 
as  they  had  hidden  their  bows  and  arrows  in  the  grass.  Opposite 
these  was  formed  the  Spanish  infantry,  the  cavalry  being  between 
the  two  armies  which  were  on  foot.  Yitacucho  gave  the  signal 
agreed  upon,  and  the  Indians  snatched  up  their  arms  to  rush  upon 
the  Spaniards.  But  De  Soto's  men  had  had  instructions  how  to  act, 
and  the  twelve  who  were  in  immediate  attendance  upon  himself 
seized  the  cacique  and  bound  him  securely.  The  governor, 
springing  upon  his  horse,  would  have  charged  upon  the  natives 
with  that  headlong  valor  for  which  he  was  famous,  but  a  shower 
of  arrows  killed  his  steed.  Mounting  a  second  one,  the  furious 
assault  which  he  led  soon  broke  the  Indians'  line  of  battle,  and 
they  fled  in  confusion.  Some  of  them  plunged  into  the  lakes, 
and  from  under  the  broad  leaves  of  the  water-lilies  which  grew 
there  in  abundance,  continued,  for  ten  hours,  to  discharge  ar- 
rows at  the  Spaniards.  It  must  be  remembered  that  this  is  the 
account  of  the  Spanish  historians,  who  always  shield  their  coun- 
trymen at  the  expense  of  the  Indians.  The  more  impartial  Port- 
uguese narrators  say  that  the  interpreters  who  betrayed 
Yitacucho's  confidence  were  unworthy  of  the  trust  which  De 
Soto  reposed  in  their  statements,  and  that,  on  the  field  of  battle, 
the  cacique  was  seized  before  his  men  had  made  any  hostile  dem- 
onstration. Be  this  as  it  may,  Yitacucho  and  many  of  his  tribe 
were  reduced  to  slavery,  that  was  terminated  by  death,  when,  a 
week  later,  they  attempted  to  regain  their  liberty. 

The  Indians  of  this  tribe  and  others  had  told  them  much  of  the 
difficulties  which  they  had  yet  to  encounter,  and  which  De  N"  arvaez 
and  his  men  had  undergone  in  the  very  country  through  which 
thvey  were  soon  to  pass.  Disheartened  by  these  stories  as  well  as 
by  the  death  of  so  many  of  their  companions,  the  Spaniards  in- 
sisted upon  returning  to  the  place  where  they  had  disembarked, 
and  abandoning  the  country  as  soon  as  the  ships  came  from  Ha- 
vana. Except  De  Soto  himself,  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  army 
who  was  disposed  to  pursue  the  adventure  any  further.  The  gov- 
ernor was  "  a  stern  man,  and  of  few  words,"  but  when  once  his 
mind  was  made  up,  he  was  inflexible.  "  You,  who  are  so  easily  dis- 
couraged," he  said,  "  may  stay  behind.  You  have  never  seen  me 
shrink  from  the  post  of  danger ;  and  I  will  now  advance,  with 
*two  hundred  men,  or  even  a  smaller  number,  and  meet  all  the 
enemies  that  are  likely  to  offer  any  opposition  to  our  progress." 

They  encamped  for  the  winter  at  the  head  of  the  bay  of 


FERDINAND    DE  SOTO. 


33 


)achee,  and  from  this  point  a  message  was  despatched  to  Cuba, 
desiring  that  supplies  might  be  sent  thither  early  in  the  spring; 
and  another  after  Captain  Calderon  and  his  troop.  The  ships 
had  returned  from  Cuba  in  the  meantime,  bringing  abundant 
supplies  of  all  necessaries,  and  a  letter  to  De  Soto  from  his  wife. 
This  is  of  interest,  urging  him,  as  it  does,  to  give  up  the  adven- 
ture, if  it  must  be  prosecuted  with  the  same  cruelties  which  others 
had  practised,  and  of  which  she  had  only  heard  since  his  depar- 
ture. "Not  for  all  the  riches  of  the  country,"  she  wrote,  "would 


DE  SOTO'S  MAKCH. 

I  have  you  commit  one  act,  the  remembrance  of  which  would  be 
painful  to  you  hereafter."  De  Soto  loved  his  wife,  and  wished  to 
make  her  happy,  but  preferred  to  do  this  in  his  own  way.  He 
had  invested  all  that  remained  of  his  fortune  in  equipping  this 
expedition,  and  a  failure  would  be  utter  ruin.  In  spite  of  her 
entreaties,  then,  as  well  as  of  the  mutinous  murmurs  of  his  sol- 
diers, he  determined  to  press  forward  to  the  land  of  gold. 

In  March,  1540,  the  Spaniards  left  their  winter  quarters,  and 
proceeded  on  their  journey.  "I  will  not  turn  back,"  the  gov- 
ernor had  said,  "till  I  have  seen  the  poverty  of  the  country  with 
own  eyesj"  and  his  words  stimulated  hi§  followers  tQ 


34  FERDINAND   DE    SOTO. 

greater  exertions  and  endurance.  The  Spaniards  were  now  on 
the  way  to  the  gold  fields  of  Georgia,  which  they  had  nearly 
reached  when,  for  some  reason,  they  turned  aside.  They  had,  at 
one  point,  been  assured  by  their  guide  that  they  would  reach 
the  land  of  gold  in  four  days,  but  after  a  nine  days' journey  it 
still  mocked  them.  To  increase  their  troubles,  their  stock  of 
provisions,  with  which  they  had  been  supplied  by  a  friendly 
cacique,  was  nearly  consumed ;  and  their  search  for  food  was  not 
always  successful.  The  Indian  trail,  which  they  had  heretofore 
followed,  had  failed  them  ;  and  suffering  intensely  with  hunger, 
they  made  their  way  slowly  through  the  pathless  forests,  that 
seemed  to  stretch  to  the  end  of  the  world.  At  last,  after  endur- 
ing hardships  beyond  description,  they  came  once  more  to  a 
highly  cultivated  and  open  country.  Two  leagues  farther  on, 
they  came  in  sight  of  an  Indiai}  town,  which  was  situated  on  the 
farther  side  oi  a  river.  On  the  nearer  bank  they  encamped,  and 
here,  seated  in  state  on  the  margin  of  the  river,  De  Soto  received 
the  Indians  who  crossed  in  canoes.  These  were  men  of  rank  and 
authority,  and  after  a  variety  of  salutations,  demanded  to  be  in- 
formed if  the  white  men  came  for  peace  or  war.  The  governor 
replied,  as  usual,  that  he  wished  to  be  at  peace  with  the  people 
of  that  country,  and  hoped  to  be  supplied  with  provisions.  They 
answered  that  the  last  crop  had  been  unusually  bad,  and  they 
had  hardly  enough  for  their  own  people ;  but  that  they  would 
inform  the  maiden  who  was  their  ruler  of  this  request;  and  re- 
embarking,  they  returned  to  the  town. 

The  news  that  this  tribe  was  governed  by  a  woman  was  re- 
ceived with  joy  by  the  Spaniards,  for  that  was  one  point  in  the 
description  which  the  Indians  had  given  of  the  land  of  gold. 
"When  this  princess,  who  was  only  about  nineteen  years  old,  vis- 
ited their  camp  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours,  her  personal  adorn- 
ment confirmed  their  hopes ;  so  rich  were  her  ornaments  of  pearls 
and  gold.  She  repeated  what  had  been  said  about  the  poor  har- 
vest, but  said  that  one  of  two  magazines  of  corn,  reserved  for 
future  exigencies,  should  be  bestowed  upon  the  strangers ;  and 
presented  her  necklace,  of  invaluable  pearls,  to  the  governor. 

Her  generosity  was  rewarded  in  a  truly  Spanish  way.  Al- 
though "  treated  with  every  mark  of  respect,"  she  was  strictly 
guarded  in  the  midst  of  her  own  dominions — "a  necessary  meas- 
ure to  keep  her  people  in  subordination  to  the^Spaniards."  The 
temples  and  tombs  were  sacked  for  the  pearls  to  be  found  there, 


FERDINAND   DE    SOTO.  35 

the  booty  from  one  mausoleum  amounting  to  five  hundred  pounds 
in  weight.  This  town,  Cofachiqui,  was  probably  situated  at  the 
junction  of  the  Broad  and  Savannah  rivers.  So  pleasant  did  the 
Spaniards  find  it  that  they  desired  to  settle  there,  but  De  Soto 
was  determined  to  press  on  to  the  Peru  of  North  America.  For 
twenty  years  avarice  had  been  his  leading  passion,  and  it  was  too 
strong  for  him  now  to  resist  it. 

The  unhappy  princess  was  obliged  to  accompany  them  when, 
on  the  third  of  May,  1540,  they  left  Cofachiqui  to  proceed  yet  far- 
ther on  their  journey.  She  was  compelled  to  call  upon  her  sub- 
jects for  all  kinds  of  assistance  for  the  explorers,  especially  to 
carry  burdens  from  one  place  to  another.  But  she  finally  con- 
trived to  make  her  escape,  and  such  was  De  Soto's  chivalry, 
which  had  at  last  come,  to  the  surface,  that  he  would  not  permit 
his  men  to  pursue  her. 

At  a  town  called  Chenalla,  supposed  to  be  the  same  as  Qua- 
latche,  at  the  source  of  the  Chattahoochee,  they  again  changed 
their  course,  turning  towards  the  south-west.  In  the  latter  part 
of  July  they  were  at  Coosa,  where,  in  the  course  of  the  season, 
they  found  the  delicious  wild  grape  which  still  abounds  in  Ala' 
bama.  Received  and  well  entertained  for  some  time  by  the  gi 
gantic  chief  Tuscaloosa,  they  offended  him  by  their  assuming 
authority,  as  usual,  over  him  and  his  tribe.  De  Soto,  after  a  rest 
at  this  village,  prepared  to  resume  his  march,  accompanied  by 
the  cacique.  'A  Spanish  guard  had  been  given  the  Indian,  under 
pretense  of  honoring  him,  and  his  satisfied  manner  and  his  con- 
tinued kindness  led  them  to  believe  that  he  did  not  suspect  that 
he  was  a  prisoner.  Their  course  was  towards  Mavilla  (Mobile), 
a  town  under  the  government  of  a  cacique  tributary  to  Tusca- 
loosa. To  this  subject  prince  the  chief,  when  they  approached 
the  town,  sent  orders  to  prepare  a  grand  entertainment  for  the 
guests  he  would  bring  with  him ;  adding  to  this  message  a  toke» 
which  would  tell  his  real  meaning. 

In  conformity  with  the  wishes  of  the  cacique,  the  warriors  be' 
longing  to  the  town  were  mustered,  arms  were  collected,  and 
every  possible  preparation  made  for  rescuing  Tuscaloosa.  As  the 
Spaniards  approached  Mavilla,  they  were  filled  with  astonish- 
ment at  the  strength  of  the  fortifications,  and  TMrth  alarm  at  the  bus- 
tle of  preparations.  Their  fears  were  allayed,  however,  by  the  na- 
ture of  their  welcome,  and  when,  after  they  had  been  conducted  to 
the  quarters  provided  for  them,  Tuscaloosa  informed  De  Soto  that 
3 


36  FERDINAND   DE    SOTO. 

he  wished  to  retire  for  a  short  time  to  converse  with  his  people  and 
make  further  arrangements  for  the  comfort,,  of  his  guests,  the 
governor,  although  suspicious  of  his  intentions,  could  not  raise 
any  reasonable  objection.  Breakfast  was  prepared,  by  De  Soto's 
order,  for  himself  and  the  cacique,  as  they  were  accustomed  to 
eat  at  the  same  table.  Tuscaloosa  was  summoned,  but  did  not 
answer  the  call ;  again  and  again  he  was  called ;  at  last  a  Spanish 
officer  imperiously  ordered  him  to  obey.  It  was  the  signal  for 
the  battle. 

"What  would  these  unmannerly  people  have  with  my  chief?  " 
asked  an  Indian  warrior,  angrily;  "  Down  with  the  villains! 
We  can  endure  their  insolence  no  longer/' 

He  was  killed  instantly  by  a  single  blow  from  the  cutlass  of 
G-allegos,  and  the  fight  began.  The  Spaniards  endeavored  to  es- 
cape from  the  town  as  soon  as  possible ;  but  on  their  way  to  the 
gates,  several  of  them  were  killed  or  wounded.  The  flint-headed 
arrows  penetrated  the  armor  of  the  Spaniards,  and  Be  Soto  saw 
his  men  falling  around  him  with  fearful  rapidity.  Eetreat  now 
— and  he  could  not  continue  the  fight  under  these  circumstances, — 
and  the  prestige  of  the  Spaniards  would  be  lost;  they  would  no  long- 
er bo  regarded  as  invincible,  and  would  soon  be  driven  out  of  the 
country.  Dismounting,  he  snatched  up  an  axe,  and  advanced 
towards  the  wooden  wall  of  the  town,  which  protected  the  enemy 
from  the  fire  of  his  men.  Perceiving  his  purpose,  DeMoscoso 
and  two  or  three  other  brave  soldiers  followed  him  ;  but  the 
torrent  of  stones  which  the  Indians  poured  down  upon  them 
crushed  the  less  vigorous  to  the  earth,  and  De  Soto  and  De  Mos- 
coso  continued  the  work  alone.  At  last  a  breach  was  made, 
wide  enough  for  the  admission  of  the  cavalry. 

The  village  soon  presented  a  scene  of  the  utmost  horror.  The 
cavalry  had  dashed  in  upon  the  Indians,  who  retreated  hastily  to 
the  houses ;  the  infantry  followed.  From  every  side  the  flint- 
headed  arrows  came  in  showers,  dealing  death  to  man  and  horse. 
The  Spaniards  set  fire  to  the  houses,  and  the  terrors  of  the  flames 
were  added  to  those  of  the  sword.  The  light  structures  of  reeds 
and  dry  timbers  burnt  with  fearful  rapidity,  and  the  fire  spread 
all  over  the  town  in  a  short  time.  The  cries  of  the  women,  more 
than  a  thousand  of  whom  were  burned  to  death,  were  added  to 
the  horrid  din  of  the  battle.  In  the  market-place  of  the  town  was 
Tuscaloosa,  with  a  small  body  of  his  bravest  warriors,  who 
fought  desperately  while  their  countrymen  perished  around  themu 


FERDINAND   DE    SOTO. 


37 


Not  even  did  the  charge  of  cavalry  which  De  Soto  led  make  them 
disperse.  Shoulfter  to  shoulder,  heart  to  heart,  stood  these  earli- 
est defenders  of  our  country.  Now  the  two  chiefs  press  forward 


to  a  personal  encounter  with  each  other — the  mounted,  mail-clad 
knight  of  Spain  and  the  gigantic  warrior  of  the  wilderness.  But 
if  one  be  defended  by  his  shining  armor,  the  other  is  shielded  by 


38  FERDINAND   DE    SOTO. 

the  love  of  his  people.  Other  warriors  throw  themselves  before 
him,  and  engage  in  the  hopeless  combat.  One  by  one  they  fall 
before  that  lance,  dripping  with  thetblood  of  their  race,  and  at 
last  De  Soto  and  Tuscaloosa  meet.  The  immense  war-club  is 
raised  for  a  blow,  but  with  a  chivalry  that  the  lion-hearted  king 
might  have  envied,  and  the  fearless  and  blameless  knight  of 
France  would  have  admired,  its  descent  is  arrested.  An  arrow 
has  pierced  De  Soto's  hauberk,  and  the  wounded  man  is  spared 
by  the  chief.  De  Soto  conceals  his  wound,  lest  his  men  be  dis- 
heartened and  yield  to  the  enemy.  For  hours  the  fight  continues, 
and  the  Spanish  army  is  weakened  by  fatigue,  fainting  with 
hunger  and  thirst.  But  fortunately  for  them,  the  main  body 
came  up  (  for  only  the  van,  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  had 
been  engaged),  and  the  tide  turned  in  their  favor.  Still  the 
Indians  fought  on,  now  desperately ;  often  Tuscaloosa  forced  his 
way  to  where  the  battle  raged  fiercest,  hoping  in  the  thickest  of 
the  battle  to  meet  again  with  the  Spanish  leader ;  but  again  he  is 
prevented  by  his  people.  At  last  he  sees  that  all  is  lost,  and 
rushing  into  a  house  near  by,  is  almost  instantly  buried  by  the 
falling  timbers.  Not  an  Indian  escaped  from  fire  and  sword. 
The  number  of  those  who  perished  is  stated  at  from  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  to  four  thousand,  though  Bancroft  thinks  even 
the  smaller  number  exaggerated. 

The  Spaniards  remained  for  almost  a  month  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Mavilla,  before  the  wounded  had  sufficiently  recovered 
to  march.  Nov.  18,  they  left  the  ruined  town,  and  proceeded 
almost  due  north  for  five  days.  They  were  much  delayed  in 
crossing  the  Tombigbee,  as  the  Indians  disputed  their  passage 
twelve  days.  A  further  march  of  ten  days  brought  them  to  a 
spot  where  they  encamped  for  the  winter;  probably  in  the  north- 
ern part  of  the  present  state  of  Mississippi. 

The  ships  had  arrived  with  fresh  supplies  from  Cuba  when  De 
Soto  gave  orders  to  march  northward  from  Mavilla;  supplies 
which  were  all  the  more  needed  by  them,  since  all  their  baggage 
had  perished  in  the  flames  which  consumed  the  Indian  town. 
Why,  in  the  face  of  these  facts,  he  should  have  turned  directly 
away  from  the  needed  provisions,  is  a  matter  for  speculation 
only.  His  motive  was  probably  in  his  fear  that,  an  easy  passage 
homeward  being  provided,  they  would  desert  him  and  return  to 
Cuba.  It  will  be  recollected  that  he  had  expended  nearly  all  his 
fortune  in  equipping  this  expedition ;  that  he  was  resolved  no* 


FERDINAND   DE   SOfO.  89 

to  return  without  acquiring  such  wealth  in  Florida  as  Cortez  had 
found  in  Mexico,  or  Pizarro  in  Peru. 

The  Spanish  historian  records,  as  something  remarkable,  that 
his  countrymen  lived  peacefully  here  for  the  space  of  two  months. 
The  corn  was  standing  in  the  fields  when  they  first  encamped, 
although  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow.  They  were  plenti- 
fully supplied  with  food  during  the  winter  by  the  Indians,  but, 
as  usual,  attempted  to  impose  upon  the  good  nature  of  their  ben- 
efactors. When  the  spring  opened,  De  Soto  demanded  that  two 
hundred  Indians  should  be  sent  with  him  to  carry  the  burdens  of 
his  company.  This  was  a  requirement  not  unusual  with  the 
Spaniards,  but  strange  to  the  Chickasaws.  Determined  to  de- 
stroy the  strangers,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  their  own  homes,  the 
Indians  set  fire  to  their  own  village,  where  the  Spaniards  were 
encamped,  and  attacked  them.  Had  they  been  as  resolute  as 
Tuscaloosa's  warriors,  they  would  have  been  successful,  but  they 
speedily  withdrew  into  the  forests.  Here  they  remained  for  a 
week,  which  time  the  Spaniards  employed  in  erecting  forges, 
tempering  swords,  and  fashioning  lances ;  so  that  when  the  na- 
tives finally  summoned  up  enough  resolution  to  attack  them 
again,  they  were  well  prepared  for  resistance. 

The  fire  in  this  Chickasaw  village  had  destroyed  what  they 
had  saved  from  the  flames  of  Mavilla,  and  clad  only  in  skins  and 
in  mats  of  ivy,  the  miserable  remnant  of  the  once  gallant  army 
continued  the  journey.  For  seven  days  they  struggled  through 
the  wilderness,  where  the  dense  forest  alternated  only  with  al- 
most impassable  marshes.  Their  spirits  sank — surely  they  had 
come  to  the  end  of  the  world — but  the  iron  will  of  the  leader  saw 
ahead  the  star  of  hope,  and  its  rays,  though  faint  and  uncertain, 
were  still  golden.  At  last  they  came  to  an  Indian  village  on  the 
banks  of  a  mighty  river,  and  from  the  height  on  which  it  stood 
De  Soto  saw  the  yellow  flood  of  the  Father  of  Waters,  more  than 
a  mile  broad,  bearing  upon  its  mighty  tide  the  monarchs  of  the 
forest  that  had  been  undermined  by  its  changing  current.  For 
the  first  time,  the  eye  of  a  white  man  beheld  that  mighty  flood 
which  to-day  is  bridged  for  our  needs ;  which  the  skill  of  the  en- 
gineer has  annihilated,  as  all  distances  and  dangers  have  been 
conquered. 

His  arrival  awakening  much  curiosity  among  the  Indians  on 
the  west  bank,  they  came  out  in  a  great  multitude,  armed  with 
bows  and  arrows,  and  gaudily  painted,  and  crowned  with  nod- 


40 


FERDINAND   DE    SOTO. 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


FERDINAND  DE   SOTO. 


41 


ding  plumes,  their  chiefs  sitting  under  the  awnings  of  two  hun- 
dred large  canoes,  and  bringing  gifts  of  food  to  the  Spaniards. 

Here  they  encamped  for  twenty  days,  building  boats  on  which 
to  cross  the  Mississippi.  The  Indians  seemed  at  first  disposed  to 
resistance,  but  were  awed  by  the  evidently  superior  strength  of 
the  white  men.  At  length  eight  large  scows,  each  large  enough 
to  transport  fifty  men  and  ten  horses,  were  completed  ;  probably 


enough  to  transport  all  the  men  at 
one  time,  as  many  had  perished  on 
the  way,  by  disease  as  well  as  by 
violence;  and  the  river  was  crossed. 
This  was  the  region  of  mineral  wealth,  as  Be  Soto  believed, 
and  they  plunged  still  more  deeply  into  the  heart  of  the  conti- 
nent. Here,  in  the  country  of  the  Dakotas,  they  were  regard- 
ed as  the  children  of  the  sun,  and  the  blind  were  brought 
into  their  presence  to  be  healed.  The  leader  answered  their 
supplications  with  the  words:  "  Pray  only  to  G-od,  who  is  in 
heaven,  for  whatsoever  you  need." 

Journeying  toward  the  northwest,  they  reached  a  point  proba- 


42  EERDlttAND   1>E   SOTO. 

bly  near  "White  Eiver,  two  hundred  miles  west  of  the  Mississippi ; 
having  crossed  the  main  stream,  according  to  most  authorities, 
at  about  the  boundary  line  between  the  present  states  of  Missis- 
sippi and  Tennessee.  Then,  turning  southward,  they  came  into 
the  country  of  the  Comanches.  Here  they  met  with  such  treat- 
ment and  acted  in  such  a  manner,  that,  although  the  Spanish  his- 
torian does  not  hint  at  such  a  word,  we  are  forced  to  conclude 
that  the  gallant  Spaniards  retreated  from  the  hostile  Indians. 
They  encamped  for  the  winter  in  the  midst  of  a  less  warlike  peo- 
ple, living  on  the  banks  of  the  Washita;  and  seem  to  have  treat- 
ed the  inhabitants  with  more  than  their  usual  barbarity.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  the  men  engaged  in  this  expedition  were 
rather  more  humane,  owing  to  the  restraint  imposed  by  their 
leader,  than  the  majority  of  Spaniards  who  had  dealings  with  the 
natives ;  but  Be  Soto  seems  to  have  lost  his  humanity  as  his 
hopes  died  away ;  perhaps  h'e  was  even  then  suffering  from  the 
malarial  influences  of  the  country.  Certain  it  is  that  the  life 
and  happiness  of  an  Indian  were  valued  less  than  ever,  and  any 
trifling  consideration  of  safety  would  induce  him  to  order  a  vil- 
lage burned. 

Misfortunes  thickened  around  them  •  the  winter  was  unusually 
severe,  and  they  suffered  from  disease  as  well  as  privations.  Juan 
Ortiz,  the  veteran  of  De  Narvaez'  expedition,  who  had  been 
so  long  in  captivity,  and  who  had  been  invaluable  as  a  guide, 
died  during  this  winter — an  irreparable  loss.  Every  hunting 
party  met  with  loss  before  it  returned,  from  the  arrows  of  the 
Indians ;  and  only  the  indomitable  will  of  the  leader  sustained 
them. 

Hope  had  led  them  onward,  but  now,  even  to  tne  keen  eye  of 
De  Soto,  there  was  no  ray  visible.  Sadly,  as  spring  drew  near, 
he  ordered  preparation  to  be  made  for  the  journey — it  was  to  go 
back  whence  they  had  come.  Through  a  country  inhabited  by 
races  they  had  wronged,  where  every  day  must  see  a  contest  be- 
tween them  and  the  hostile  natives,  through  marshes  intersected 
by  a  network  of  bayous,  through  dense  forests  where  the  light  of 
day  scarcely  penetrated  to  the  slimy  ooze  on  which  they  must 
tread,  back  to  the  Mississippi.  They  followed  the  course  of  the 
"Washita,  then  of  the  Eed  Eiver,  at  the  mouth  of  which  they  found 
a  country  called  G-uachoya.  The  chief  could  not  tell  them  how 
far  they  were  from  the  sea;  he  only  knew  that  the  course  of  the  riv- 
er, farther  south,  lay  through  an  uninhabited  waste.  An  explor- 


FBBD1NAND  BE   SOTO.  43 

ing  party  sent  onward  traveled  eight  days  through,  the  cane- 
brakes,  almost  impassable,  and  the  dense  woods,  and  were  only 
able  to  advance  thirty  miles.  Horses  and  men  were  dying  with 
fearful  rapidity,  and  the  governor's  heart  sank.  The  natives 
must  soon  overpower  them,  so  rapidly  was  their  number  dimin- 
ishing. One  last  resort  was  tried. 

Mindful  of  the  adoration  of  the  northern  tribes,  he  said  to  a 
chief  near  Natchez,  that  he  was  of  supernatural  birth. 

"  You  say  you  are  the  child  of  the  sun/'  answers  the  Indian, 
with  a  touch  of  contempt  for  the  falsehood  ;  "  dry  up  the  river, 
and  I  believe  you/' 

De  Soto  was  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  wilderness;  more  than  half 
of  his  army  had  perished  by  disease,  accident  and  the  devastation 
of  war  j  and  nearly  all  who  survived  looked  upon  him  as  the 
author  of  all  their  sufferings.  They  had  hoped  to  be  cured  of 
their  diseases  by  drinking  of  the  hot  springs  of  Arkansas,  whither 
the  natives  had  directed  them ;  there,  they  thought,  might  be 
that  fountain  of  youth  which  Ponce  de  Leon  had  sought,  and 
perished  in  the  seeking ;  but  this  hope,  too,  had  been  in  vain. 
The  behavior  of  the  cacique  on  whom  he  had  tried  to  practise 
the  deception  mentioned  above,  was  insulting  in  the  extreme, 
and  two  years  before,  his  land  would  have  been  laid  waste,  his 
people  murdered.  But  now,  the  proud  Spaniard  must  submit  to 
every  affront — revenge  or  resentment  could  not  be  his. 

To  these  ills  was  added  bodily  weakness.  The  soul  of  the 
hero  may  feel  but  slightly  the  pain  of  a  wound,  counting  it  pleas- 
ure to  suffer  for  his  country  or  the  right ;  but  the  dull  languor 
of  disease  wears  upon  him  as  the  dropping  of  water  wears  away 
the  stone.  Oppressed  by  melancholy  and  bodily  infirmity, 
De  Soto  looked  around  him  and  saw  that  none  of  his  subordi- 
nates had  inspired  the  Indians  with  a  wholesome  fear  •  that 
although  the  natives  had,  in  spite  of  the  chiefs  contempt,  almost 
reverenced  him  as  a  god  while  he  was  in  his  usual  health, 
they  now  began  to  suspect  that  he  was  mortal  like  themselves. 

In  his  youth,  while  still  under  the  command  of  De  Avila,  an 
astrologer  had  foretold  that  his  life  would  resemble  that  of 
Balboa,  the  discoverer  of  the  Pacific  ocean ;  and  that  he  would 
live  no  longer  than  De  Avila's  unfortunate  predecessor  in  the 
government  of  Darien.  The  limit  was  reached  now,  and  the  old 
prediction  often  recurred  to  his  mind,  but  was  as  often  banished. 
A  monk  of  considerable  medical  skill  soon  reported  that  the 


44  FERDINAND   t>E   S0?6. 

commander  was  gradually  succumbing  to  his  disease/which  must 
soon  prove  fatal. 

"  This  is  no  more  than  I  have  expected/'  he  answered  calmly, 
when  told  of  his  condition ;  "  and  I  submit  without  a  murmur 
to  the  will  of  G-od." 

He  called  the  officers  together,  and  bade  them  choose  his  suc- 
cessor; then,  when  they  left  the  choice  to  him,  nominated  De  Mos- 
coso.  He  counselled  them  as  to  their  future  course,  and  entrusted 
De  Moscoso  with  a  message  for  Donna  Isabella.  He  took  leave  of 
the  soldiers,  whose  every  hardship  he  had  shared,  whose  every 
danger  he  had  braved ;  and  May  21,  1542,  he  died. 

Secretly,  at  night,  they  dug  his  grave ;  silently  they  lowered 
his  body  into  it;  fearful  that  the  Indians,  if  they  knew  of  his 
death,  would  fall  upon  his  followers  and  destroy  them  utterly. 
The  next  day  they  announced  to  the  natives  that  the  leader  was 
better,  although  not  yet  able  to  leave  his  tent;  and  to  conceal 
their  grief,  they  instituted  a  sort  of  tournament.  Backward  and 
forward  over  the  grave  of  their  general  they  rode,  apparently  in 
the  greatest  joy.  The  impassible  savages  looked  on,  and  sus- 
pected the  truth. 


BURIAL  OF   DE   SOTO. 

The  searching  inquiries  of  the  cacique  soon  revealed  this  sus- 
picion to  the  Spaniards,  and  fearful  that  the  grave  of  De  Soto 
would  be  desecrated  as  they  had  defiled  the  Indian  tombs,  they 
exhumed  his  body,  and  weighting  the  winding-sheet  heavily  with 
sand,  lowered  it,  at  midnight,  silently  into  the  Mississippi.  Thp 


46  FERDINAND   DE   SOTO. 

broad  golden  flood  parted  to  receive  the  body  of  the  gold-seeker 
and  closed  above  him  and  his  hopes  forever. 

There  is  not  much  more  to  tell.  The  Spaniards,  no  longer  led 
by  the  spirit  that  would  press  onward,  no  matter  through  what 
difficulties  and  dangers,  resolved  to  proceed  towards  New  Spain 
without  delay.  It  was  unanimously  decided  that  a  journey  by 
land  would  be  less  dangerous  than  one  by  water,  and  they  under- 
took to  find  a  way  to  Mexico  through  the  pathless  forests.  After 
wandering  two  hundred  miles  west  of  the  river,  they  turned  back 
in  despair,  and  sought  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  again.  Here 
they  devoted  themselves  to  the  construction  of  brigantines,  no 
easy  matter  for  men  in  their  condition,  and,  more  than  a  year 
after  De  Soto's  death,  were  ready  for  their  voyage.  Seventeen 
days  after  their  departure,  followed  by  the  arrows  and  the  hate 
of  the  Indians,  they  had  traveled  the  five  hundred  miles  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  but  thirty-three  more  had  passed 
before  they  reached  Panuco,  a  town  on  the  coast  of  Mex- 
ico about  two  hundred  and  sixty  miles  from  the  boundary  of 
the  present  state  of  Texas. 

Here  they  remained  for  a  long  time,  quarreling  so  much  among 
themselves  that  the  Mexican  viceroy  was  at  last  obliged  to  inter- 
pose his  authority;  not,  however,  until  many  of  the  three  hundred 
and  eleven  survivors  of  this  ill-starred  company  had  perished  at 
the  hands  of  their  comrades. 

For  three  years,  no  intelligence  of  the  expedition  had  reached 
Havana.  Donna  Isabella  waited  day  after  day,  month  after  month, 
year  after  year,  for  tidings  from  Florida.  None  came.  Her  cheek 
paled,  her  eye  dimmed  with  tears.  At  last  some  one  who  had  re- 
turned from  Mexico  told  the  tale  as  it  had  been  told  to  him,  of 
the  hardships  and  dangers  they  had  met,  of  the  mighty  river  they 
had  discovered,  and  of  the  death  of  their  leader.  Three  days 
after  this  confirmation  of  her  fears,  her  soul  rejoined  his  whose 
body  rests  beneath  the  mighty  river  which  he  discovered. 


CHAPTER  II. 


FEENCH  PIONEEES. 

FOE  years  after  the  adventurous  Genoese  returned  safe  from 
his  voyage  to  the  east  by  way  of  the  west,  the  new  world 
which  he  had  given  to  Castile  and  Leon  was  claimed  by  many 
other  nations,  and  regarded  by  all  as  the  land  for  the  attainment 
of  wealth  and  glory.  England  claimed  the  northern  continent 
in  right  of  Cabot's  discovery  of  Newfoundland  and  Labrador  in 
1497  ;  France  claimed  the  same  por- 
tion by  virtue  of  the  exploration  of 
this  sea  by  a  daring  Frenchman  in 
1488,  who  told  Columbus  of  the  west- 
ern land;  and  Spain  held  with  pride 
to  the  gift  of  the  pope — all  America. 
In  the  sixteenth  century,  these  were 
the  three  great  powers  of  Europe, 
and  no  one  was  strong  enough  to 
expel  the  others  from  the  territory 
claimed.  The  Spaniards,  then,  came 
here  to  seek  wealth ;  the  English,  to  JACQUES  CARTIER< 

add  to  their  territory;  the  French, 

to  fish,  and  extend  the  limits  of  the  papal  authority  over  a  new 
realm.  Of  course  these  were  not  the  only  motives  of  each,  but 
they  were  the  principal  causes  operating  to  send  white  men  to 
the  new  world. 

JACQUES  CARTIER. 

"Within  fifty  years  after  the  first  voyage  of  Columbus,  French 
sailors  had  explored  the  coast  of  Canada,  discovered  the  St.  Law- 
rence, and  established  fisheries  off  the  coast  of  Newfoundland. 
Jacques  Cartier,  a  sturdy  Breton,  was  the  leader  of  the  most  im- 
portant of 'these  expeditions.  Nor  were  they  trifling  dangers 
which  these  sailors  braved.  Eeliable  accounts  of  even  older  ex.- 


48  SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

plorers  told  of  the  dreadful  beings  peopling  Canada ;  it  was  the 
home  of  the  dragon,  the  griffin,  and  no  one  knew  what  other  ani- 
mals that  were  not  to  be  feared  in  any  other  part  of  the  world  ; 
and  at  least  one  island  was  inhabited  by  demons,  whose  blood- 
curdling yells  could  be  heard  by  the  unwary  navigator  venturing 
too  close  to  the  shore.  Despite  such  dangers,  however,  the  fish- 
eries were  claimed,  the  land  was  explored,  and  in  1541  a  settle- 
ment was  established  near  the  site  of  what  is  now  Quebec. 

The  French  early  made  friends  with  the  Indians,  and  the  alli- 
ances between  them  have  become  matters  of  history.  The  differ- 
ence between  the  estimation -in  which  the  native  held  the  French- 
man and  that  in  which  he  held  the  Spaniard  and  Englishman  was 
probably  due  to  the  early  treatment  he  experienced  at  the  hands' 
of  the  whites.  The  Indians  of  the  South  were  exasperated  by  the 
treatment  received  from  De  Soto's  men;  the  savages  of  New 
England  never  forgot  the  outrage  committed  by  Captain  Hunt; 
but  the  French,  if  they  kidnapped  the  Indians  later,  gained  their 
friendship  first.  We  need  not  follow  longer  the  efforts  of  Cartier 
to  establish  settlements  in  New  France.  The  religious  wars  in  the 
mother  country  sent  to  Florida  those  hapless  colonists  that  per- 
ished at  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards,  but  none  of  the  dominant 
faith  could  be  spared  for  explorations  or  settlements  in  the  north. 

SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

When  France  was  once  more  at  peace,  interest  in  the  exten- 
sion of  her  territory  revived,  and  after  several  voyages  that  re- 
sulted in  no  permanent  foothold  being  obtained,  an  expedition 
was  organized  under  the  leadership  of  a  man  whose  name,  given 
to  his  discoveries,  has  become  a  household  word  along  our  Cana- 
dian border — Samuel  de  Champlain. 

Born  in  1567,  at  a  small  seaport  on  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  his  life 
had  been  spent  in  adventure  and  danger  upon  sea  and  land. 
Commissioned  a  captain  in  the  royal  navy  at  an  early  age,  at 
twenty-three  he  became  a  soldier  in  the  armies  with  which  Henry 
IY  established  his  claim  to  the  crown  of  France,  and  for  eight 
years  fought  bravely.  The  recognition  of  Henry's  authority 
put  an  end  to  the  war,  and  Champlain,  finding  his  occupation 
gone,  was  forced  to  seek  some  new  outlet  for  his  adventurous 
spirit.  The  space  of  two  years  and  a  half  was  occupied  by  a  voy- 
age to  the  West  Indies  and  to  Mexico.  It  is  a  noticeable  fact 
that  this  bold,  keen-sighted  Frenchman,  visiting  Panama  in  1592, 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN.  49 

conceived  the  idea  of  a  ship-canal  across  the  isthmus,  and  saw 
the  same  advantages  that  Be  Lesseps  sees  to-day  in  a  similar 
plan,  which  our  own  famous  engineer,  Eads,  condemns  as  imprac- 
ticable. Eeturning  to  France,  he  found  that  an  old  soldier,  Be 
Chastes,  had  obtained  from  the  king  a  patent  granting  him  a 
monopoly  of  the  fur-trade  with  the  Indians  of  Canada.  They  had 
been  companions-in-arms,  and  De  Chastes  knew  that  Champlain, 
young,  ardent,  yet  ripe  in  experience,  a  skillful' seaman  and  a 
practised  soldier,  was  above  all  others  the  man  for  his  enterprise. 
Setting  sail  in  1603,  they  found  that  the  numerous  tribes,  of 
whom  Cartier  had  told,  had  vanished,  doubtless  with  the  drag- 
ons and  demons.  A  few  wandering  Algonquins  made  a  rude 
map  of  the  country  on  the  deck  of  the  little  vessel,  indicating 
Niagara  as  a  rapid ;  Champlain  essayed  to  pass  the  rapids  of 
St.  Louis,  but  failed,  and  the  expedition  returned  to  France. 

De  Chastes  was  dead,  but  his  mantle  fell  upon  the  Sieur  de 
Monts,  who,  in  the  succeeding  year,  secured  a  patent  from  the 
King  (patents  cost  nothing),  being  empowered  to  impress  idlers 
and  vagabonds  as  material  for  his  colony.  It  was  a  strange  mix- 
ture of  men  that  filled  his  two  ships  —  thieves  and  ruffians 
dragged  on  board  by  force,  gentlemen  by  rank  and  nature,  Catholic 
priests  and  Huguenot  ministers.  We  will  not  detail  the  quar- 
rels that  arose  between  these  latter  elements  on  the  voyage,  nor 
the  horror  of  devout  Catholic  and  Calvinist  when  the  sacri- 
legious crew  insisted  upon  burying  in  one  grave  a  priest  and  a 
minister  who  had  died  on  the  same  day,  to  see  if  they  would  lie 
peaceably  together. 

Sounding,  exploring,  surveying,  they  finally  selected  an  island 
which  they  called  St.  Croix,  in  the  river  which  now  bears  that 
name,  as  the  site  of  their  village ;  a  position  having  no  advan- 
tages except  that  it  readily  admitted  of  defense;  but  as  one  aim 
of  the  expedition  was  to  convert  the  Indians,  it  seemed  some- 
what strange  that  this  qualification  should  be  considered  so  im- 
portant. Soldiers,  sailors,  artisans,  betook  themselves  to  their 
task,  and  before  the  winter  closed  in,  had  erected  dwellings  for 
all.  The  ships  returned  to  France,  leaving  this  strangely  assort- 
ed company  to  endure  the  hardships  of  a  northern  winter.  De- 
spite the  sheltering  belt  of  cedars  at  the  upper  end  of  the  island, 
the  north  wind  swept  down  upon  them  with  a  severity  they  had 
never  known  before.  Immense  floating  cakes  of  ice  kept  them 
for  days  from  the  mainland;  thus  cutting  off  supplies  of  wood  and 


50  SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

water;  cider  and  wine,  frozen  solid,  were  served  out  by  the 
pound;  scurvy  broke  out,  and  thirty-five  of  the  seventy -nine  set- 
tlers died  before  spring.  Only  Champlain's  indomitable  tenacity 
of  purpose  kept  them  from  despair ;  but  we  may  know  that  he 
was  not  less  glad  than  they,  when,  in  the  spring,  supplies  and 
reinforcements  arrived  from  France.  De  Monts  was  by  this  time 
fully  aware  of  the  disadvantages  of  his  present  location,  and  tried, 
although  unsuccessfully,  to  find  a  suitable  place  somewhere  on 
the  coast  of  the  present  state  of  Maine,  which  Champlain  had  ex- 
plored the  previous  September.  Failing  in  this  plan,  he  deter- 
mined to  go  to  the  inland  harbor  of  Port  Eoyal,  and  there  he  es- 
tablished his  colony  at  the  mouth  of  the  Annapolis  River.  But 
enemies,  jealous  of  his  monopoly,  were  busily  at  work  against  him 
in  Paris,  and  he  was  forced  to  return  thither,  leaving  Champlain, 
Pontgrave  and  Champdore  in  command  at  Port  Eoyal. 

Another  winter  of  hardships, 
although  less  severe  than  the  last, 
brought  them  to  the  spring  of  1606. 
Champlain,  in  a  badly  built  vessel 
of  eighteen  tons,  explored  the 
coast  as  far  as  the  southeastern 
part  of  Massachusetts,  but  with 
little  resulting  advantage.  The 
peninsula  of  Cape  Cod  he  found 
thickly  studded  with  the  wigwams 
of  a  warlike  race,  who  inflicted 
some  injury  upon  a  part  of  the 
company  that,  contrary  to  orders, 

landed;  two  being  killed,  and  the  others  flying  to  the  boat,  brist- 
ling with  arrows  as  a  porcupine  with  quills.  The  savages  were  re- 
pulsed by  a  charge  of  Champlain  with  nine. men,  and  the  dead  bu- 
ried with  proper  solemnities.  During  the  interment,  they  could  see 
the  Indians  upon  a  neighboring  hill,  dancing  with  glee  and  mock- 
ing them  by  unseemly  gestures;  and  as  soon  as  the  graves  in  the 
wilderness  were  left  unguarded,  the  bodies  were  exhumed  and 
burned,  the  clothes  being  shared  among  the  natives. 

Disgusted  by  the  reception  no  less  than  by  the  character  of  the 
country  itself,  Champlain  and  his  men  returned  to  Port  Eoyal, 
where  the  winter,  less  severe  than  those  already  experienced, 
was  spent.  At  dinner,  the  aged  chief  Memberton  was  a  daily 
guest  at  the  table  of  the  principal  persons,  and  warriors,  squaws 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN.  51 

and  children  sat  on  the  floor  or  crouched  in  the  corners,  await- 
ing eagerly  and  humbly  a  portion  of  bread  or  biscuit.  Treated 
always  with  kindness,  they  became  very  fond  of  the  French,  act- 
ing as  guides  and  instructors  when  the  Europeans  would  hunt 
those  animals  peculiar  to  America.  The  colonists  had  been  well 
fed  throughout  the  winter,  such  was  the  abundance  of  game ;  and 
as  spring  opened,  and  the  grain  planted  in  the  fall  began  to  grow, 
new  life  seemed  infused  into  their  efforts.  But  their  prosperity 
received  a  sudden  blow,  in  the  king's  withdrawal  of  the  monopo- 
ly of  the  fur  trade,  and,  to  the  grief  of  the  aged  Memberton,  they 
returned  to  France  in  the  fall  of  1607.  When  the  last  boat-load 
left  Port  Royal,  the  shore  resounded  with  lamentations ;  and 
nothing  could  console  the  afflicted  savages  but  oft  repeated  prom- 
ises of  a  speedy  return. 

Three  years  later,  a  second  colony  was  established  in  the  same 
place,  under  the  auspices  of  the  queen  regent  (for  Henry  IY  was 
dead)  a-nd  the  Jesuits.  Memberton  and  many  of  his  people  were 
baptized ;  to  those  who  came  seeking  spiritual  counsel,  the  good 
fathers  gave  food  in  abundance;  and  one  hopeful  convert,  when 
dying,  inquired  with  considerable  solicitude  if  in  heaven  he  would 
find  pies  as  good  as  those  which  the  French  had  given  him.  Yet 
the  missionaries  wrote  home  of  their  excellent  success,  and  Mem- 
berton, at  his  death,  was  said  to  be  a  devout  Christian. 

The  succeeding  years  of  the  colony  were  filled  with  misfor- 
tunes, terminating  in  the  capture  of  most  of  the  settlers  by  the 
English,  and  the  complete  destruction  of  the  village.  But  even 
while  the  Jesuits  had  been  feeding  and  baptizing  the  Indians,  a 
lonely  ship  had  sailed  up  the  St.  Lawrence.  In  the  heart  of  the 
commander  were  bright  hopes  of  the  land  of  which  he  was  al- 
ready enamored.  Ascending  the  vast  flood,  twenty  miles  from 
shore  to  shore,  they  came  to  a  point  where  the  stream  suddenly 
contracted  to  a  mile  in  width ;  on  one  hand  the  green  heights  of 
Point  Levi;  on  the  other,  the  cliffs,  named  by  the  Indians,  be- 
cause here  the  stream  narrowed,  Quebec.  Soon  the  solitudes  saw 
a  gang  of  men  at  work,  felling  trees,  and  in  a  few  weeks  a  pile  of 
wooden  buildings  rose  on  the  brink  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  A  strong 
wooden  wall  surrounded  an  inclosure  containing  three  buildings, 
a  court-yard,  and  a  tall  dove-cote.  This  wall  was  pierced  by 
loop-holes  for  musketry,  and  a  moat  and  three  or  four  small 
cannon  gave  greater  security.  Here  Champlam  was  left  witb 
twenty-eight  men,  and  the  ship  returned  to  France. 
4 


52  SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

Starving  Indians  beset  the  fort,  begging  for  food;  now,  ter- 
rified by  prophetic  dreams  of  their  enemies,  imploring  shelter 
within  the  enclosure.  How  the  winter  passed  with  them,  we 
do  not  know.  Champlain  has  recorded  little  besides  the  in- 
tense cold,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the  cold  weather,  their  suf- 
ferings from  scurvy.  But  spring  came  on,  and  as  the  woods 
put  on  a  more  cheerful  dress  than  the  icy  covering  they  had 
worn  so  long,  the  poor,  disease-stricken  creatures  crept  out 
into  the  May  sunshine,  and  saw,  in  the  young  grass  of  the  mead- 
ows, where  the  marsh-marigolds  shone  like  miniature  suns,  the 
graves  of  twenty  of  their  companions.  Champlain  alone  seems  to 
to  have  escaped  the  ravages  of  the  disease  which  was  then  the 
scourge  of  mankind,  and  with  new  vigor  drawn  from  the  spring 
sunshine,  he  anticipated  the  long-desired  journey  to  tlib  south- 
west. Difficulties  there  were  in  the  way,  but  even  while  his  sol- 
dier heart  despised  them,  he  formed  a  plan  for  evading  them.  The 
Indian  tribes,  to  whom  peace  was  unknown,  infested  with  their 
scalping  parties  the  streams  and  pathways  of  the  forest,  increas- 
ing tenfold  its  inseparable  risks.  Anticipating  surprises,  he  re- 
solved to  join  a  war  party,  and  fight  his  way  to  discovery.  The 
tribes  east  of  the  Mississippi  were  divided  into  two  vast  families, 
the  Algonquins  and  the  Huron-Iroquois,  and  these  were  never  at 
peace  with  each  other.  Opportunity  was  not  lacking,  for  the 
surrounding  Indians  had  frequently  visited  Quebec  during  the 
winter,  and  had  been  struck  with  amazement  and  admiration 
when  they  saw  the  superior  military  skill  and  accoutrements  of 
the  French.  A  young  Algonquin  chief  had  urged  Champlain  to 
join  him,  in  the  spring,  in  a  campaign  against  his  enemies,  the 
Iroquois,  and  Champlain,  hoping  to  hold  the  balance  of  power 
between  the  nations  of  the  New  World,  and  thus  attain  for 
France  an  unquestioned  supremacy,  assented  to  the  plan. 

Waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  war-party,  he  at  last  set  out 
without  it ;  but,  moving  up  the  St.  Lawrence,  saw,  thickly  clus- 
tered in  the  forest,  the  lodges  of  his  allies.  The  southern  family 
of  Indians  was  divided  by  a  mortal  enmity,  and  the  Hurons  were 
with  ^the  Algonquins.  Two  chiefs,  then,  received  the  steel-clad 
strangers,  and  they  were  conducted  to  their  lodge  by  a  staring 
crowd  of  savages.  Few  of  the  warriors  had  ever  seen  a  white 
man,  and  they  surrounded  these  in  speechless  wonder.  There 
were  feasting,  smoking,  speeches;  and  these  necessary  ceremo- 
nies having  cemented  the  bond  of  friendship  between  them,  all 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN.  53 

descended  together  to  Quebec ;  for  the  warriors  must  see  with 
their  own  eyes  the  wonderful  town  where  dwelt  these  wonderful 
men. 

It  was  the  twenty-eighth  of  May,  1609,  before  their  curiosity 
was  fully  satisfied ;  before  war-dance  and  war-feast  had  been 
often  enough  repeated ;  before  they  were  ready  to  start  upon  the 
journey  which  had  been  planned.  Twelve  white  men,  in  a  small 
shallop,  were  in  the  midst  of  the  swarm  of  bark  canoes  that  hun- 
dreds of  dusky  arms,  with  steady,  measured  sweep,  were  driving 
onward.  Beaching  the  mouth  of  a  river  then  called  des  Iroquois, 
but  since  named  Eichelieu,  they  encamped  for  two  days,  the  war- 
riors hunting  and  then  quarreling  among  themselves.  Three- 
fourths  of  their  number,  as  the  result  of  their  disagreement,  re- 
turned home,  leaving  the  rest  to  pursue  their  course  up  the  broad 
and  quiet  river. 

The  shallop  outsailed  the  canoes,  and  anxious  to  know  the  char- 
acter of  the  stream  before  venturing  too  far,  Champlain,  leaving 
the  boat  in  charge  of  four  men,  proceeded  on  foot  through  the 
woods.  His  Indian  allies  had  assured  him  that  throughout  the 
proposed  journey  his  shallop  could  pass  unobstructed;  but  he 
now  heard  the  hoarse  surging  of  rapids,  and  saw  the  water  thick- 
ly set  with  rocks,  through  which  no  larger  boat  than  the  birch- 
bark  canoe  could  be  safely  steered.  Returning  to  the  shallop, 
he  found  that  the  savages  had  overtaken  it,  and  mildly  rebuked 
them  for  the  deception  put  upon  him;  adding  that  he  was  never- 
theless determined  to  perform  his  part  of  the  contract.  Nine 
men,  with  the  shallop,  returned  to  Quebec,  while  Champlain, 
with  two  volunteers,  went  onward  in  the  Indian  canoes.  Sixty 
warriors  and  twenty-four  canoes  were  counted,  as  the  Indians, 
carrying  their  light  vessels  on  their  shoulders,  filed  in  long  pro- 
cession through  the  forest  to  the  smooth  water  above  the  rapids. 

Landing  towards  the  close  of  the  day,  less  than  two  hours  suf- 
ficed for  the  construction  of  a  strong  defensive  half-moon,  open 
on  the  river-side,  and  large  enough  to  contain  all  the  light  sheds 
and  huts,  hastily  erected  for  the  night.  Scouts  were  despatched 
in  all  directions,  and  returning,  reported  no  danger  near.  The 
medicine-man,  concealed  in  his  hut,  invoked  the  Manitou.  The 
chief  took  more  practical  measures  to  insure  their  safety;  gath- 
ering bundles  of  sticks,  he  named  each  one  for  some  warrior  as 
he  stuck  it  into  the  ground ;  the  savages  gathered  around  and 

died  this  arrangement  attentively  for  a  few  moments,  and  then, 


54  SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

forming  into  battle  array  as  thus  indicated,  they  broke  their 
ranks,  mingled  a  few  moments  in  the  wildest  confusion,  and  re- 
formed with  wonderful  alacrity  and  skill.  At  last  the  camp  was 
still ;  no  sentinel's  measured  tread  disturbed  the  silence,  for  al- 
though every  warrior  was  wrapped  in  slumber,  the  breaking  of 
a  twig  would  instantly  arouse  them  all. 

Advancing  further  south,  the  river  widened  as  they  went. 
Channels  where  ships  might  float,  broad  stretches  of  water,  ex- 
tended from  shore  to  shore  of  the  large  islands,  leagues  in  extent, 
and  Champlain  entered  the  lake  which  now  bears  his  name.  We 
need  not  dilate  upon  the  beauty  of  the  sceno  which  here  met  his 
gaze ;  our  interest  rather  centers  in  the  adventures  which  here 
awaited  him  and  his  allies. 

Progress  was  now  becoming  dangerous,  and  greater  precau- 
tions were  therefore  adopted.  Lying  all  day  close  in  the  depths 
of  the  forest,  at  twilight  they  would  embark  again,  and  pursue 
their  way  until  dawn.  Their  intention  was  to  follow  the  natural 
highway  marked  out  by  lakes  and  rivers,  and  which  became,  in 
the  following  century,  the  grand  pathway  of  war,  and  to  attack 
some  outlying  town  of  their  enemies  on  the  Hudson  river ;  but 
they  did  not  have  to  go  so  far.  Among  the  aborigines,  dreams 
had  always  been  regarded  as  supernatural  in  origin,  and  as  pro- 
phecies or  guidance  for  the  future.  Champlain  had  been  eagerly 
questioned  as  to  his  dreams,  but  his  unbroken  slumbers  had  hither- 
to disappointed  his  allies.  At  last,  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  July, 
he  was  able  to  answer  their  inquiries  to  their  satisfaction ;  he  had 
dreamed  of  the  Iroquois  drowning  in  the  lake;  of  his  wish  to 
succor  them,  and  of  the  Algonquin  advice  to  leave  them  to  the 
fate  which  they  deserved.  Highly  elated  at  this  utterance  of  their 
oracle,  they  pushed  forward  on  their  nightly  journey. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  before  they  saw  before  them  on  the  lake  a 
mass  of  dark  objects  moving  towards  them — the  canoes  of  the 
Iroquois.  Each  party  saw  the  other  and  distinguished  an  enemy 
by  the  paint  and  ornaments  worn ;  and  war-cries,  making  the 
night  hideous,  pealed  over  the  dark  water.  The  Iroquois  were 
near  the  shore,  and  quickly  took  advantage  of  their  superior 
position,  landing,  and  with  iron  axes  taken  in  war  from  the 
Canadian  tribes,  and  with  stone  hatchets  of  their  own  making, 
working  like  beavers  in  cutting  down  trees  for  a  barricade.  The 
Algonquins,  thus  made  the  attacking  party,  lashed  their  canoes 
to  long  poles,  and,  remaining  a  bow-shot  from  their  enemies,  dan- 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN.  55 

ced  all  night  long  with  as  much  vigor  as  the  frailty  of  their  vessels 
would  permit ;  making  up  for  any  short  coinings  in  this  direction 
by  the  energy  displayed  in  hurling  abuse,  sarcasm,  menace  and 
boasting  at  the  garrison — compliments  returned  with  interest. 

The  attack  was  deferred  until  daybreak.  At  dawn  Champlain 
and  his  two  followers  put  on  the  light  armor  of  the  time,  and 
armed  with  sword  and  arquebus,  prepared  for  the  fight.  The 
three  Frenchmen  were  in  different  canoes,  and  each  concealed 
himself,  as  the  Algonquins  approached  the  shore,  either  by  lying 
flat  in  the  bottom,  or  by  covering  himself  with  an  Indian  robe. 
Landing  without  opposition,  at  some  distance  from  the  Iroquois, 
they  presently  saw  the  enemy  filing  out  of  their  barricade — two 
hundred  tall,  strong  men,  of  the  boldest  and  fiercest  warriors  in 
America.  Advancing  through  the  forest  with  an  order  which 
excited  the  admiration  of  the  veteran  French  soldier,  he  noted 
several  chiefs  that  were  conspicuous  by  their  tall  plumes,  and 
has  particularly  described  their  armor,  of  twigs  interwoven  with 
cords,  and  shields  of  wood  or  hides. 

Alarmed  at  the  large  opposing  force,  the  Algonquins  called 
with  loud  cries  for  their  champion.  As  Champlain,  clad  from 
head  to  foot  in  armor,  a  plumed  casque  increasing  his  apparent 
height,  advanced  to  the  front  through  the  avenue  opened  in  the 
ranks  of  red  men,  the  Iroquois  stood  and  stared  in  speechless 
wonder.  Before  they  had  recovered  from  their  surprise,  his 
arquebus,  clumsy  enough  to  our  eyes,  but  all-sufficient  for  the 
time,  was  levelled;  a  loud  roar  rang  through  the  woods;  one  of 
their  chiefs  fell  dead,  and  another  by  his  side  rolled  among  the 
bushes.  Quickly  following  up  their  success  the  Algonquins  echo- 
ed the  report  of  his  gun  with  the  wild  yell  with  which  they  were 
accustomed  to  startle  their  enemies  and  awaken  their  own  cour- 
age, and  a  flight  of  arrows  darkened  the  air.  For  a  moment  the 
Iroquois  stood  firm,  and  answered  arrow  for  arrow ;  but  when 
the  deadly  thunder  broke  again  and  again,  they  turned  and  fled 
in  uncontrollable  terror.  Like  dogs  after  deer,  the  allied  Hurons 
and  Algonquins  tore  through  the  thicket  in  hot  pursuit.  Some 
of  the  Iroquois  were  killed,  more  were  captured  ;  and  the  vic- 
tory was  complete. 

At  night,  they  bivouacked  in  the  forest,  and  prepared  to  tor- 
ture one  of  the  captives.  Champlain  sickened  at  the  dreadful 
sight,  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  shoot  him.  At  first  refusing 
his  request,  they  tore  the  scalp  from  the  living  man's  head ;  then, 


56 


SAMUEL   DE    CHAMPLAIN. 


SAMUEL  DE  CSAMPLAIN.  57 

as  the  Frenchman  turned  away  in  disgust  and  anger,  called  out : 

"  Do  as  you  will  with  him." 

He  turned  again,  and  the  captive's  sufferings  were  mercifully 
ended  by  the  bullet  which  sped  to  his  heart. 

Eetreating  promptly — a  measure  which,  with  the  Indians,  al- 
ways followed  victory, — in  three  or  four  days  they  arrived  at  the 
mouth^  of  the  Richelieu.  Here  they  separated,  the  Hurons  and 
Algonquins,  each  with  a  share  of  prisoners  to  be  tortured,  pro- 
ceeding towards  the  Ottawa,  and  Champlain,  with  a  small  party 
of  Montagnais,  returning  to  Quebec. 

Champlain  went  back  to  France  soon  after  this  expedition, 
which  occurred  in  1609,  and  recounted  his  exploits  to  the  king, 
to  whom  he  presented  the  head  of  a  dead  Iroquois,  and  various 
natural  curiosities  from  Canada.  Setting  sail  early  in  the  spring 
of  1610,  a  short  time  before  the  king's  assassination,  he  repaired 
immediately  upon  his  arrival  to  the  rendezvous  with  the  Hurons 
and  Algonquins  at  the  mouth  of  the  Richelieu.  These  had  prom- 
ised to  guide  him  to  the  great  lakes  on  whose  shores  were  cop- 
per mines,  and  the  Montagnais  were  to  lead  him  northward  to 
Hudson's  Bay.  To  each  of  these  he  had  promised  the  same  re- 
ward— help  in  a  second  warlike  expedition  against  the  Iroquois, 
and  it  was  in  a  boat  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  canoes,  filled 
with  lank-haired  Montagnais  warriors,  that  he  repaired  to  the 
rendezvous  appointed. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  June,  an  island  in  the  St.  Lawrence  was 
swarming  with  busy  and  noisy  savages,  Champlain's  allies,  cut- 
ting down  trees  to  clear  the  ground  for  a  dance  and  a  feast  with 
which  they  intended  to  welcome  the  hourly-expected  Algon- 
quins. Suddenly  a  canoe  came  in  sight,  and  as  the  paddles  urged 
it  forward  with  unusual  haste,  the  messenger  called  to  them  that 
the  Algonquins  were  in  the  forest,  a  league  away,  fighting  with 
the  Iroquois.  "With  cries  of  piercing  shrillness,  they  leaped  into 
their  canoes,  and  made  for  the  shore,  Champlain  and  his  four 
Frenchmen  being  among  them.  The  light  barks  shot  through  the 
water,  and  as  the  prow  grated  on  the  pebbles,  each  warrior  snatch- 
ed up  his  light  arms  and  sped  like  a  greyhound  into  the  woods. 
The  Frenchmen,  untrained  to  the  wilderness,  and  encumbered  by 
heavier  clothing  and  arms,  soon  fell  far  into  the  rear.  Deserted 
in  the  midst  of  a  swamp,  over  which  their  light-footed  allies  had 
bounded  undeterred,  having  to  wade  through  water  knee-deep, 
to  climb  over  fallen  trees,  among  slimy  logs  and  entangled  roots, 


58     .  SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

tripped  by  vines,  lashed  by  recoiling  boughs,  "  cruelly  persecu- 
ted "  by  swarm  of  mosquitoes,  the  poor  Frerichmen,  loaded  down 
by  their  armor,  at  length  hailed  two  Indians  running  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  obliged  them  to  act  as  guides  to  the  presence  of  the 
enemy.  The  Iroquois  stood  at  bay  behind  a  breast-work  of 
trunks,  boughs  and  matted  foliage;  the  Algonquins  had  attacked 
them,  but  had  met  with  a  bloody  repulse,  and  now  nocked  around 
them,  half  hidden  in  the  edges  of  the  forest,  eager  and  clamor- 
ous, yet  afraid  to  renew  the  fight  until  the  arrival  of  their  allies. 
A  wild  yell  welcomed  the  Frenchmen  ;  another,  from  within  the 
barricade,  defied  them.  A  storm  of  arrows  from  both  sides  fol- 
lowed ;  Champlain  and  one  of  his  men  were  wounded  by  the 
stone-headed  missiles,  but  drawing  the  arrows  from  the  flesh,  ran 
up  to  the  barricade.  At  the  sight  of  the  terrible  strangers,  clad 
in  lightning  and  armed  with  thunder,  the  Iroquois  threw  them- 
selves flat  upon  the  earth.  Gaming  new  courage  from  their  allies, 
the  Algonquins  rushed  up  to  the  barricade,  and  began  to  tear 
away  the  trees  composing  it.  Some  fur-traders,  who  had  heard 
the  firing,  now  came  up,  and  could  not  resist  the  impulse  to  join 
in  the  fight.  They  opened  fire  upon  the  besieged  Indians,  who, 
wild  with  terror,  leaped  and  writhed  to  dodge  the  shot  which 
their  frail  armor  could  not  resist.  At  a  signal  from  Champlain, 
the  wild  horde  charged  upon  the  impromptu  fort,  and  forced 
an  entrance.  Some  of  the  Iroquois  were  cut  down,  as,  war-club 
in  hand,  they  stood  hewing  at  their  enemies ;  some  climbed  the 
barrier  and  were  killed  by  the  raging  mob  without,,  or,  reaching 
the  river,  were  drowned  in  its  blood  stained  current;  fifteen  sur- 
vived and  were  taken  prisoners.  Of  these,  Champlain  could  save 
but  one  from  the  torture,  and  one  was  quartered  and  eaten. 

According  to  the  custom  of  the  Indians,  the  victors  had  no 
thought  of  following  up  their  success.  Elated  at  their  victory, 
they  indulged  in  all  the  festivities  that  their  experience  could 
suggest;  and  after  a  few  days  returned  home  with  the  ghastly 
trophies  of  the  blow  struck  on  the  enemy.  Champlain  had  per- 
formed his  share  of  the  contract,  but  for  some  reason  which  does 
not  appear,  did  not  claim  from  the  Indians  the  fulfillment  of  their 
promise.  Probably  cares  connected  with  his  colony,  and  dan- 
ger to  it  arising  from  the  assassination  of  the  king,  tidings  of 
which  awaited  him  on  his  return,  called  him  to  France  without 
delay.  Certainly  he  sailed  thither  without  loss  of  time,  and  re- 
mained until  the  following  spring  (1611). 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN.  59 

The  entanglement  of  his  ship  among  drifting  fields  and  moun- 
tains of  ice,  off  the  coast  of  Newfoundland,  on  his  return  voyage, 
proved  but  an  omen  of  the  difficulties  which  were  to  follow.  Anx- 
ious to  establish  a  permanent  post,  through  which  the  advantages 
of  trade  with  the  great  Indian  communities  of  the  interior  should 
be  secured  to  DeMonts,  he  found  that  wild  reports  of  the  wonders 
of  New  France  had  brought  thither  numberless  adventurers, 
eager  for  riches ;  and  saw  that  whatever  he  might  accomplish  or 
undergo  would  be  for  their  advantage. 

Nor  were  the  Indians  pleased  at  the  coming  of  this  legion  of 
traders.*  A  band  of  Hurons,  loaded  with  skins,  came  to  the  ren- 
dezvous. The  traders  saluted  them  from  their  vessels  and  fright- 
ened them  nearly  to  d.eath  ;  they  could  not  understand  how  the 
same  explosion  might  be  used  to  express  both  enmity  and  respect, 
to  kill  or  to  honor,  as  the  case  might  be.  Still  further  frightened  by 
the  bearing  of  the  disorderly  crowd,  they  awakened  Champlain, 
late  at  night,  and  invited  him  to  their  camp.  There  he  found  the 
chiefs  and  warriors  assembled  in  council.  The  peace-pipe  was 
proffered  and  accepted,  and  in  troubled  tones  the  chief  said: 

"  Come  to  our  country,  buy  our  beaver,  build  a  fort,  teach  us 
the  true  faith,  but  do  not  bring  this  crowd  with  you." 

Believing  that  these  lawless  bands  of  rival  traders,  all  well- 
armed,  intended  to  attack,  plunder  and  kill  them,  it  required  all 
Champlain' s  powers  of  persuasion  to  keep  the  peace.  The  night 
was  spent  in  friendly  talk,  but  the  frightened  Indians  soon  broke 
up  their  camp,  and  went,  some  to  their  homes,  some  to  fight  the 
Iroquois,  while  the  traders  returned  to  Tadoussac,  and  Champlain 
to  Quebec. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  that  Champlain  was  now  obliged 
to  go  to  France,  to  seek  some  powerful  patron  for  the  colony. 
This  was  accomplished,  and  as  lieutenant  for  the  nobleman 
who  became  lieutenant-general  for  the  king,  he  returned  to  in- 
fuse new  life  into  the  little  settlement  that  looked  to  him  for 
support  in  all  its  trials.  Yet,  though  he  was  the  life  and  soul 
of  New  France,  though  without  him  it  would  soon  have  been 
left  again  to  the  Indians,  his  great  object  was  not  to  establish 
colonies  there.  In  his  eyes,  fur-trade  and  settlements  were 
but  means  to  an  end,  or  rather,  to  two  ends.  These  two  great 
objects  were  to  find  a  way  to  China  and  to  convert  the  In 
dians.  Many  of  the  rival  traders  were  given  an  interest  in  the 
company,  so  that  much  of  the  trouble  from  that  quarter  had  van- 


60  SAMUEL  DE 

ished  ;  and  every  possible  arrangement  was  made  to  further  his 
plans  for  exploring  expeditions.  His  heart  must  have  leaped 
high  when  a  young  Frenchman,  who  had  been  with  the  Algon- 
quins  up  the  Ottawa,  reappeared  in  Paris  with  a  wonderful,  yet 
not  improbable  story  of  a  voyage  to  the  northern  sea,  distant 
from  Montreal  only  seventeen  days'  journey.  Many  eminent 
persons  about  the  court  urged  Champlain  to  follow  up  these 
discoveries;  and  the  daring  adventurer,  nothing  loath,  again 
crossed  the  Atlantic  in  the  spring  of  1613,  and  with  four  French- 
men and  one  Indian,  set  out  from  the  neighborhood  of  Montreal 
to  find  the  promised  passage  to  the  northern  ocean. 

We  will  not  follow  them  in  their  daily  toil  as  they  made  their 
way  up  the  Ottawa;  now  over  rocks,  now  through  the  woods, 
they  had  to  carry  their  canoes  ;  launching  them,  by  turns  they 
pushed,  dragged,  lifted,  paddled,  shoved  with  poles  the  light 
structures  of  birch-bark.  Here,  where  rapid  after  rapid  made  the 
river  a  foamy  slope,  where,  smooth  and  shining,  the  water 
glided  softly  in  and  out  the  shadows  of  the  trees,  while  the  terri- 
fied settlers  at  Jamestown  dared  not  venture  out  of  cannon-shot 
of  their  town,  and  when  no  white  man's  home  disturbed  the  New 
England  Indian's  solitude,  Champlain  and  his  men  boldly  pressed 
forward  into  the  wilderness  where  never  before  had  a  white  man 
set  foot;  and  planted  the  huge  crosses  of  white  cedar,  symbols  of 
the  white  man's  faith,  along  the  banks  of  the  stream. 

Keeping  the  course  advised  by  the  Indians,  they  reached  a  far 
inland  point  by  a  path  so  beset  with  difficulties  that  a  chief  whom 
they  visited  said,  in  astonishment,  while  he  offered  the  calumet: 
"These  white  men  must  have  fallen  from  the  clouds  ;  for  how 
else  could  they  have  reached  us  through  the  woods  and  rapids 
which  even  we  find  it  hard  to  pass  ?  The  French  chief  can  do 
anything.  All  that  we  have  heard  of  him  must  be  true." 

Proceeding  still  northward,  he  was  entertained  with  great  re- 
joicings by  Tessonat,  chief  of  the  tribes  north  of  Lake  Coulange, 
who  was,  however,  only  with  difficulty  persuaded  to  furnish  him 
with  canoes  for  the  further  prosecution  of  his  journey  ;  and  after 
he  had  agreed  to  help  them,  the  promise  was  withdrawn,  they 
urging  that  rapids,  rocks,  cataracts,  and  the  wickedness  of  the 
Nipissings  would  bar  their  way.  But  Champlain  stood  firm. 

"  This  young  man,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  adventurer  who 
had  told  of  his  wonderful  travels,  "has  been  to  their  country,  and 
did  not  find  the  road  or  the  people  so  bad  as  you  have  said." 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN.  61 

"  Nicholas,"  demanded  the  chief,  "  did  you  say  that  you  had 
been  to  the  country  of  the  Nipissings  ?" 

Summoning  all  his  effrontery,  Nicholas  asseverated  that  he 
had  been  there.  His  reply  was  followed  by  a  fierce  outcry  from 
the  contemptuous  savages,  which  the  unceremonious  chief  cut 
short  with  the  blunt  words  : 

"You  are  a  liar.  You  know  very  well  that  you  slept  here  with 
my  people  every  night  and  hunted  with  them  all  the  day,  so  that 
if  you  ever  went,  it  must  have  been  while  you  were  asleep.  How 
can  you  lie  to  your  chief?  He  ought  to  torture  you,  for  you  are 
an  enemy  to  him." 

Questioned  privately  by  Champlain,  Nicholas  Yignan  swore 
that  he  had  spoken  truth,  but  when  the  Indians  asked  him  con- 
cerning his  route,  he  had  no  answer  to  make.  Champlain,  hav- 
ing come  so  far,  and  through  such  difficulties,  was  naturally 
anxious  to  believe  his  countryman,  and  thus  displeased  the  In- 
dians. When,  however,  he  was  ready  to  go,  he  again  questioned 
Yignan,  who  fell  on  his  knees  and  implored  forgiveness  for  his 
imposture.  No  further  reason  remained  for  their  journey,  and 
somewhat  crestfallen,  the  adventurers  returned  to  that  point 
where  Montreal  now  stands. 

When  Champlain  returned  from  a  voyage  to  France  in  1615, 
four  Franciscans  accompanied  him,  to  labor  for  the  conversion 
of  the  Indians.  Two  remained  in  Quebec,  two  went  as  traveling 
missionaries  among  the  Montagnais  and  the  Hurons.  But  the 
Indians  wished  temporal,  rather  than  spiritual  assistance,  and 
urged  Champlain  to  accompany  them  upon  an  inroad  into  the 
country  of  their  enemies,  the  Iroquois.  No  special  adventure 
made  the  journey  remarkable.  The  war-party  penetrated  as  far 
south  as  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Oneida,  where  an  Iroquois 
village  then  stood.  This  was  attacked  under  the  generalship  of 
Champlain,  but  such  was  the  confusion  into  which  his  savage  sol- 
diers fell  in  their  attempt  to  follow  European  methods,  that  they 
were  repulsed,  and  absolutely  refusing  to  again  assail  'the  town, 
retreated. 

The  Hurons  had  promised  Champlain  an  escort  to  Quebec,  but 
each  warrior  found  some  reason  for  refusing  to  lend  his  canoe, 
and  the  chiefs  had  no  power  but  persuasion.  Undoubtedly  the 
defeat,  which  had  proven  Champlain  not  invincible,  had  much  to 
do  with  their  refusal ;  even  though  it  was  caused  by  their  own 
sudden  retreat.  Nothing  was  to  be  done,  therefore,  but  to  re- 


62  SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAItfc 

main  all  winter  in  the  Huron  Tillage,  and  he  accepted  the  shel- 
ter of  the  lodge  belonging  to  a  chief  named  Durantal. 

Although  they  would  not  discommode  themselves  to  escort  him 
to  Quebec,  Champlain  was  treated  with  all  honor  while  at  the 
Indian  village ;  and  when,  on  one  occasion,  allured  by  the 
strange  bird  that  we  know  as  the  red-headed  woodpecker,  he 
went  far  into  the  woods,  and  losing  his  way,  was  gone  several 
days,  they  searched  for  him  without  ceasing,  and  welcomed  him 
back  with  the  most  extravagant  expressions  of  joy.  To  prevent 
the  occurrence  of  such  a  misfortune  again,  Durantal  would  nev- 
er afterward  allow  him  to  go  into  the  forest  without  an  attendant. 

Returning  to  Quebec  in  the  spring,  he  was  welcomed  as  one 
arisen  from  the  grave,  for  the  Indians  had  reported  that  he  was 
dead.  His  forest  wanderings  were  now  over;  a  new  task,  al- 
though a  less  congenial  one,  awaited  him  ;  and  he  devoted  him- 
self to  nursing  the  puny  colony  into  life  and  strength  with  the 
same  interest  and  energy  which  he  had  put  into  his  exploring  ex- 
peditions and  military  raids.  Quebec  could  hardly  be  called  a 
settlement;  it  was  half  trading-post,  half  mission;  and  although 
Champlain  was  the  nominal  commander,  the  merchants  and  the 
friars,  between  them,  controlled  everything.  All  was  discord  and 
disorder,  the  two  ruling  classes  uniting  in  but  one  thing:  hatred 
and  jealousy  of  Champlain. 

The  governor  displayed  considerable  tact  in  dealing  with  these 
almost  unmanageable  elements  ;  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  end 
to  his  misfortunes.  He  at  last  believed  that  he  had  bound  the 
company  of  merchants  to  engagements  that  they  would  not 
break,  and  in  this  vain  hope  brought  his  wife  to  the  new  coun- 
try with  which  his  name  was  now  so  closely  identified.  But  his 
hope  proved  vain.  Matters  went  from  bad  to  worse,  and  at  last 
the  Indians  formed  a  plot  to  utterly  destroy  the  French.  They 
were,  however,  betrayed  by  one  of  their  number,  and  came  to 
seek  for  peace.  In  1622,  an  inroad  from  the  Iroquois  settlement 
occasioned  considerable  alarm,  but  ten  years  had  not  caused  them 
to  forget  the  fatal  guns,  and  they  hastily  retreated  when  they 
found  the  town  prepared  for  defense. 

The  life  of  Champlain  is  the  history  of  Quebec  for  nearly  thir- 
ty years.  But  the  most  useful  life  is  not  always  possessed  of  the 
most  interest ;  then  let  us  pass  over  in  silence  the  next  thirteen 
years,  eventful  to  the  struggling  colony,  but  of  little  importance 
save  to  the  local  antiquarian.  1635  was  the  date  of  the  severest 


MARQUETTE. 


63 


misfortune  which  had  yet  befallen  the  struggling  colony,  for  then 
it  was  that  Champlain  died.  His  strong  hand  had  sustained  it 
through  troubles  from  without  and  dissensions  within  ;  winning 
the  respect  of  the  savages,  he  prevented  danger  from  that  quar- 
ter; and  by  his  indefatigable  exertions  foiled  the  efforts  of  those 
who  would  have  sacrificed  everything  to  their  own  gain. 

MARQUETTE. 

But,  while  Champlain  was  dead,  the  spirit  of  adventure  was 
still  alive,  although  for  a  little  time  it  slumbered.  It  will  be  re- 
membered that  a  number  of  Franciscans  had  come  to  New  France 


JESUIT   MISSIONARY  PREACHING  TO  THE  INDIANS. 

to  engage  in  missionary  work;  later,  when  Calvinists  were  per- 
mitted to  trade  there,  it  was  on  the  express  condition  that  they 
maintain  a  certain  number  of  Jesuits  in  this  wilderness.  These 
men,  vowed  not  only  to  chastity,  poverty  and  obedience,  but  to 
go  wherever  their  superior  should  send  them,  left  the  cells  where 
they  had,  perhaps,  studied  half  their  lives  away,  and  wore  away 
the  remainder  of  their  days  amid  the  hardships  of  the  wilderness. 
They  claimed  to  be  successful  in  their  work,  and  certainly  the 
claim  is  justified  if  we  consider  only  the  number  of  converts ;  but 


64  MARQUETTE. 

when  we  come  to  the  extent  of  conversion  which  each  Indian 
underwent,  the  case  is  altered.  Whatever  they  may  or  may  not 
have  accomplished  spiritually,  certainly  they  thought  they  were 
doing  their  duty,  and  no  privations  deterred,  no  dangers  daunted 
them.  They  penetrated  into  the  wilderness  in  every  direction, 
and  becoming  embued  with  the  spirit  of  adventure,  are  enrolled 
among  the  most  famous  of  explorers. 

Such  a  man  was  Father  Marquette,  whose  name  has  become  in- 
dissolubly  connected  with  the  history  of  the  Mississippi.  Born  in 
France  in  1637,  he  came  to  Canada  as  a  Jesuit  missionary  in  1666, 
and  immediately  applied  himself  to  the  study  of  several  dialects 
of  the  Algonquin  tongue.  A  year  and  a  half  had  been  spent  in 
this  way  when  he  was  sent  to  found  a  mission  subordinate  to  the 
main  one  at  Quebec.  A  year  or  more  after  this,  he  was  sent,  for  a 
similar  purpose,  to  La  Pointe,  among  the  Ottawas  and  Hurons ; 
here  fye  heard  of  a  mighty  river  lying  to  the  southwest,  called  in 
the  Indian  tongue  by  a  name  signifying  "  Father  of  Waters." 
The  ideas  entertained  by  the  Europeans  of  that  age  regarding 
the  extent  of  the  western  continent  seem  to  us  absurd.  They  did 
not  realize  that  the  width  was  so  much  greater  at  the  middle  part 
of  North  America  than  it  had  been  found  to  be  in  Mexico ;  and 
were  continually  expecting  to  come  upon  the  Pacific  after  a  com- 
paratively short  journey.  When  the  Indians,  then,  told  him  of 
this  great  river  rising  in  the  west  and  flowing  to  the  south,  Father 
Marquette's  first  thought  was  that  it  would  furnish  a  highway  to 
the  South  Sea,  as  the  Pacific  was  then  called.  He  had  already 
dreamed  of  converting  all  the  tribes  dwelling  in  that  region,  and 
to  this  hope  was  added  that  keen  desire  of  adventurous  explora- 
tions that  had  possessed  Cartier  and  Champlain,  and  was  even 
then  urging  the  Sieur  de  La  Salle  onward  over  the  same  course. 

Frontenac,  then  governor  of  Quebec,  readily  listened  to  such 
suggestions,  and  in  1673  commissioned  Louis  Joliet  to  undertake 
the  tour  of  discovery,  Marquette  being  instructed  by  the  Jesuits 
to  accompany  him.  On  the  seventeenth  of  May  they  started  from 
Mackinaw,  having  already  explored  and  rudely  mapped  the 
shores  of  three  of  the  Great  Lakes — Huron,  Michigan  and  Supe- 
rior. Floating  along  the  streams  on  their  route,  carrying 
their  canoes  from  water  to  water,  and  finally  reaching  the  Wis- 
consin, it  was  just  a  month  after  their  departure  from  Mackinaw 
that  they  came  to  the  mouth  of  that  river,  and  beheld  the  broad 
blue  flood  of  the  Mississippi.  Descending  this  for  days,  they 


MARQUETTE. 


65 


traveled  three  hundred  miles  before  they  saw  the  face  of  any 
human  being  but  those  in  their  own  company.  At  last  they  saw 
a  trail  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river,  and,  following  it,  came  to 
a  town  of  the  Illinois.  Here  they  were  kindly  received,  this 
tribe  being  a  branch  of  the  great  Algonquin  family  with  which 
the  French  had  firmly  allied  themselves;  and  much  refreshed  by 
this  evidence  that  they  were  not  all  alone  in  the  wilderness,  they 
continued  their  journey.  Past  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  whose 


MARQUETTE  DESCENDING  THE   MISSISSIPPI. 

swift  current  bore  the  trunks  and  large  branches  of  trees  with 
resistless  power  onward,  and  sapping 'the  foundation  of  huge 
sandy  bluffs,  swept  them  into  its  own  flood  of  muddy  water; 
past  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  whose  volume  was  now  so  much 
greater  than  at  any  other  season  of  the  year ;  past  the  flat  and 
marshy  lands  below  the  level  of  the  water,  protected  only  by  the 
natural  levees  which  the  river  itself  had  formed,  and  which,  at 
that  season,  had  probably  given  way  to  the  vast  flood's  impetu- 
ous force.  Perhaps  the  spring  rains  had  swollen  the  volume  of 
the  main  stream  and  its  tributaries,  and  it  was  over  a  vast  golden 
sea  that  the  two  frail  canoes  floated. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  they  found  a  higher  degree  of 
civilization  than  they  had    yet    observed   among  the   natives. 


66  LA  SALLE. 

These  Indians,  who  told  them  it  was  but  ten  days'  journey  to  the 
sea,  had  plainly  had  intercourse  with  the  Spaniards,  for  they  had 
weapons  and  tools  of  steel,  and  glass  bottles  for  use  as  powder 
flasks.  Fearful  lest  they  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  these  white 
men,  whom  the  Indians  described  as  clothed  like  the  French,  and 
possessed  of  images  and  beads,  they  turned  back  home.  Four 
months  sufficed  for  the  completion  of  this  voyage  of  more  than 
two  thousand  miles,  the  return  route  being  somewhat  different 
than  that  by  which  they  had  come ;  for  they  ascended  the  Illi- 
nois, and  are  supposed  to  have  made  the  portage  to  Lake  Michi- 
gan near  where  Chicago  now  stands. 

But  the  Jesuit  missionary  had  accomplished  but  little  j  his  ex- 
plorations were  regarded  as  mere  preparation  for  his  prime  ob- 
ject. In  October  of  the  following  year  he  set  out,  with  a  party 
requiring  ten  canoes  for  transportation,  to  form  a  mission  settle- 
ment in  the  country  of  the  Illinois.  The  western  shore  of  Lake 
Michigan  was  skirted,  and  the  mouth  of  the  Chicago  reached. 
Disease  had  already  laid  her  hand  heavily  upon  him,  and  enfee- 
bled by  its  weight,  he  decided  to  go  no  farther  at  that  time. 
Throughout  the  winter  the  party  remained  there,  only  removing 
when,  in  the  spring,  a  freshet  nearly  carried  away  their  log  hut. 
Arriving  at  the  Indian  town  of  Kaskaskia,  he  was  "received  like 
an  angel  from  heaven."  Here,  however,  he  did  not  linger,  but 
went  upon  another  exploring  expedition  along  the  eastern  shore 
of  Lake  Michigan,  where,  on  the  bank  of  a  small  stream  south  of 
that  which  now  bears  his  name,  he  at  last  yielded  to  the  disease 
which  had  so  long  enfeebled  him,  and  was  buried  on  the  shores 
of  the  lake.  A  year  later  (1676)  his  bones  were  conveyed  rever- 
entially by  a  party  of  his  Indian  converts  to  the  mission  of  St. 
Ignace,  and  there  buried  with  due  solemnities. 

LA  SALLE. 

While  the  Jesuits,  as  represented  by  Father  Marquette,  were 
exploring  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  region  drained  by 
the  more  westerly  of  the  chain  of  great  lakes,  another  element 
of  Canadian  life  was  entering  into  the  same  work  in  another  di- 
rection. While  the  Jesuits  were  able  to  control  the  Indians  to  a 
marvellous  degree,  it  was  only  while  the  fathers  alone  assumed 
such  power  j  any  division  of  it  with  the  traders  or  the  civil  au- 
thority was  fatal  to  its  further  existence.  So  far,  then,  from  the 
purposes  of  trade  being  served  by  the  missionaries,  the  efforts  of 


LA  SALLE.  67 

these  men  rather  retarded  commerce  between  their  countrymen 
and  their  converts.  There  was,  however,  in  Canada,  another 
class  of  ecclesiastics,  that  united  more  readily  with  the  laymen — 
the  Franciscans, —  and  it  was  in  conjunction  with  the  priests  of 
this  order  that  the  famous  Sieur  de  la  Salle  made  his  tours  of  ex- 
ploration. 

Eobert  Cavelier,de  la  Salle  was  born  in  Eouen,  of  a  good  fam- 
ily, about  1643,  although  no  definite  record  of  the  year  of  his  birth 
has  been  found.  Educated  in  a  Jesuit  seminary  for  the  priest- 
hood, for  some  reason  he  failed  to  enter  upon  the  life  for  which 
he  had  been  intended;  what  that  reason  may  have  been  cannot  be 
discovered  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  two  centuries;  but  the 
fact  that  he  received  no  share  in  his  father's  property  shows  what 
course  had  been  marked  out  for  him,  and  the  testimonials  he  re- 
ceived upon  leaving  college  give  no  room  for  believing  his  con- 
duct forbade  his  ordination. 

Coming  to  Canada  about  1667,  for  several  years  his  only  aim 
seems  to  have  been  the  accumulation  of  a  modest  competence  by 
means  of  trading  with  the  Indians.  Considering  his  limited 
means,  his  operations  were  on  a  bold  scale  ;  with  the  same  enter- 
prising spirit  which  afterwards  made  him  famous,  he  pushed  for- 
ward to  the  frontier,  erected  trading-houses,  and  superintending 
in  person  the  details  of  his  business,  freighted  his  bark  canoes 
and  ascended  the  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  other  rivers. 
Here  he  learned  from  the  Indians  the  only  kind  of  navigation 
which  then  existed  on  the  inland  streams  and  lakes  of  this 
country. 

While  engaged  in  this  work,  he  had  gained  much  knowledge 
of  the  language  and  customs  of  the  Indians  with  whom  he  trad- 
ed; and  hearing  from  them,  as  Father  Marquette  had  already 
heard,  wonderful  stories  of  the  countries  and  rivers  south  of  them, 
his  imagination  was  kindled,  his  adventurous  spirit  excited ;  and 
he  anticipated  that  fame  and  fortune  would  result  from  the  dis- 
covery of  a  short  and  easy  route  to  China.  The  Great  Lakes 
had  been  but  recently  explored,  and  filled  with  new  hope  by  the 
certainty  that  such  bodies  of  water  extended  in  that  direction, 
he  conjectured  that  the  Pacific  lay  not  far  from  the  western  end 
of  Superior,  or  that  a  chain  of  similar  lakes  would  furnish  an  easy 
passage  if  it  were  farther  off. 

His  chief  trading  establishment  was  on  the  island  of  Montreal, 
and  was  called,  in  commemoration  of  his  hopes  and  plans,  La 
6 


68  LA  SALLE. 

Chino.  Here  a  band  of  Senecas  spent  the  winter  of  1668-9,  in  ac- 
cordance with  a  custom  which  had  obtained  among  the  Indians 
of  attaching  themselves  to  any  party  of  white  men  from  whom 
they  could  beg  food  and  shelter.  These  told  him  of  the  great 
Ohio,  rising  in  their  country  and  flowing  to  the  sea,  but  so  long 
as  to  require  eight  or  nine  months  to  paddle  to  its  mouth.  La 
Salle  felt  assured  that  this  stream  must  empty  into  the  Gulf  of 
California,  explored  less  than  thirty  years  before  by  the  Span- 
iards, and  determined  to  seek  the  passage  of  which  he  had 
dreamed  so  long. 

But  he  was  no  mere  dreamer  of  dreams  ;  with  good,  hard  com- 
mon sense,  he  made  preparations  for  a  journey  to  be  undertaken 
upon  the  representations  of  the  natives  of  the  country  through 
which  he  was  to  go,  in  search  of  a  passage  which  the  most 
learned  geographers  of  the  age  fully  believed  to  exist.  To  us, 
Who  better  appreciate  the  dcceitfulness  of  the  Indians,  his  abso- 
lute trust  in  them  seems  as  ridiculous  as  the  object  ol  his  expedi- 
tion; but  our  knowledge  of  the  country,  and  its  natives,  it  must 
be  remembered,  has  grown  to  its  present  proportions  in  a  time 
longer  by  two  centuries  than  was  accorded  to  Champlain  and 
La  Salle.  His  seignory  of  lands  surrounding  Montreal  must  be 
sold  to  meet  the  expenses,  for  the  patent  which  he  obtained  only 
authorized  an  expedition  at  his  own  expense.  On  the  sixth  of 
July,  1669,  while  Father  Marquette  was  still  only  forming  plans 
for  discovery  and  conversion  in  the  far  southwest,  he  started  up 
the  St.  Lawrence  with  fourteen  men  and  four  canoes.  Thirty 
days  afterward,  they  reached  the  broad  waters  of  Ontario,  and 
skirting  the  shore  to  the  mouth  of  the  Genesee,  remained  there  a 
month  seeking  information  of  the  Indians  and  making  treaties 
with  them.  Continuing  on  their  course,  they  met  Joliet,  who 
was  then  on  his  way  from  the  copper  mines  of  Michigan,  and  who 
furnished  them  with  a  rude  map  of  the  country  through  which  he 
had  passed.  At  the  western  end  of  Ontario,  they  found  a  Shaw- 
nee  captive  of  the  northern  tribes,  who  promised  to  conduct  them 
to  the  Ohio  in  six  weeks. 

Further  record  of  the  expedition  have  we  none.  It  is  only 
known  that  he  explored  the  Ohio  as  far  down  as  the  rapids  at 
Louisville.  He  learned  from  the  natives  that  this  atream  emp- 
tied into  that  greater  river  which,  according  to  their  account, 
lost  itself  in  the  vast  lowlands  of  the  south  ;  perhaps  he  would 
have  continued  his  journey,  but  his  men  deserted  in  a  body, 


LA   SALLE.  69 

and  he  had  to  make  the  best  of  his  way,  alone,  back  to  Canada — 
a  distance  of  four  hundred  leagues,  requiring  nearly  a  year. 

But  his  ardor  was  not  damped  by  failure.  He  knew  that  the 
longer  expedition  which  he  now  desired  to  undertake  would  re- 
quire more  capital  than  he  had,  or  could  hope  to  raise  by  his  per- 
sonal influence.  Endeavoring  to  learn  to  exercise  that  patience 
which  he  knew  was  so  necessary,  he  watched  sharply  for  his  op- 
portunity. He  had  not  long  to  wait  before  an  opening  presented 
itself.  The  Iroquois  had  never  forgotten  the  defeats  that  they  had 
suffered  when  Champlain  had  aided  their  enemies,  the  Algon- 
quins,  and  had  commenced  their  inroads  even  before  his  death. 
Their  insane  fear  of  fire-arms  had  considerably  diminished,  and 
their  hostility  had  consequently  taken  a  more  open  form.  The 
governor  of  Quebec  began  the  erection  of  a  chain  of  forts  de- 
signed to  resist  their  entrance  into  New  Franco,  and  La  Salle 
aspired  to  the  command  of  one  of  these.  Fort  Frontenac,  erected 
at  the  eastern  extremity  of  Lake  Ontario,  would  give  great  ad- 
vantages for  the  execution  of  his  projects  of  trade  and  discovery. 
Fortunate  in  winning  the  favor  of  the  governor,  Count  Fronte- 
nac, who  was  a  man  with  a  strong  mind  and  an  equally  strong 
will,  he  went  to  France  in  1675,  and  laid  his  plans  before  the  far- 
sighted  minister,  Colbert,  to  whom,  among  other  things,  the 
colonial  affairs  had  been  entrusted. 

Although  we  have  learned  but  little  of  La  Salle's  early  years 
in  Canada,  the  reception  with  which  he  met  would  lead  us  to 
suppose  that  his  life  had  been  one  which  made  him  respected 
by  all  men  for  his  sound  sense  and  steady  devotion  to  work.  By 
Colbert's  influence,  a  patent  was  issued,  granting  the  government 
and  territory  of  Fort  Frontenac  to  La  Salle,  on  condition  that  he 
rebuild  the  fort  with  stone  and  repay  Frontenac  for  his  outlay. 
The  garrison  was  to  be  maintained  at  his  own  expense,  and  cer- 
tain portions  of  the  land  to  be  cleared.  The  grant  of  the  land  and 
authority,  the  nobility  conferred  upon  him,  and  the  privileges  of 
trade  and  discovery  were  the  advantages  gained  by  his  grant. 

Applying  himself  diligently  to  his  work,  it  was  not  long  before 
he  had  performed  his  part  of  the  contract,  and  a  massive  stone 
fort  replaced  the  old  one  with  its  palisades  and  embankments. 
Trees  were  felled,  fields  planted,  and  gardens,  herds  and  poultry 
yards  enlivened  the  scene.  Not  neglecting  trade,  on  which  he 
depended  for  the  resources  to  maintain  his  garrison  and  repay 
the  borrowed  money,  he  built  three  small  barks  with  decks,  with 


70  LA  SALLE. 

which  to  navigate  the  Ontario  and  traffic  with  the  savages.  Here 
he  lived  quietly,  trading  with  the  Indians,  although  the  stories 
of  the  discoveries  of  Marquette  and  Joliet  inflamed  him  with  a 
stronger  desire  to  trace  the  river  which  they  had  explored,  and 
which  he  had  never  yet  seen,  to  its  mouth.  His  work  here  was 
only  preparatory  to  the  grand  enterprise  upon  which  he  had  so 
long  set  his  heart,  and  encouraged  by  Frontenac' s  approval  and 
offers  of  assistance,  he  went  to  France  again  in  1677,  to  obtain 
means  for  his  journey. 

Received  with  the  same  kindness  as  before,  his  requests  were 
readily  granted,  since  he  asked  from  the  government  no  money, 
but  only  a  confirmation  of  his  rights,  with  authority  to  push  his 
discoveries  as  far  as  he  chose  to  the  westward,  and  to  build  forts, 
as  he  had  built  Fort  Frontenac,  wherever  he  thought  proper. 
Besides  this  generous  permission  to  go  where  he  could  and  build 
wherever  he  chose,  providing  always  that  he  paid  his  own  ex- 
penses, he  received  a  grant  of  the  monopoly  of  the  fur  trade  with 
all  Indians  except  those  that  were  already  accustomed  to  take 
their  furs  to  Montreal. 

By  the  recommendation  of  a  nobleman  who  had  promoted  his 
suit  at  court,  La  Salle  took  into  his  service  Chevalier  de  Tonti, 
a  man  of  capacity,  courage  and  resolution,  who  proved  a  most 
valuable  officer  and  friend.  With  about  thirty  persons,  a  quan- 
tity of  arms  and  merchandise,  and  materials  for  rigging  small 
vessels,  he  set  sail  from  Eochelle  two  months  after  receiving  his 
patent,  and  arriving  at  Quebec  near  the  end  of  September,  imme- 
diately proceeded  to  Fort  Frontenac. 

The  season  was  now  far  advanced  in  this  severe  northern  cli- 
mate, and  La  Salle  made  all  haste  to  begin  preparations  for  his 
journey  in  the  spring.  He  thought  it  necessary  to  build  a  vessel 
above  the  falls,  that  he  might  use  the  great  highway  of  the  lakes, 
and  for  this  purpose  Tonti  was  despatched  to  find  a  point  in  the 
upper  part  of  Niagara  River,  or  in.  Lake  Erie,  which  would  serve 
their  purpose.  Embassadors  were  also  sent  to  the  neighboring 
Indians,  since  their  friendship  was  necessary  to  the  success  of 
the  enterprise.  Nor  was  their  natural  suspicion  the  only  thing 
which  he  had  to  combat;  jealous  of  his  monopoly,  the  Canadian 
traders  had  sent  messengers  to  inform  the  Indians  that  his  plan 
of  building  forts  was  intended  to  work  them  evil ;  as,  protected 
in  this  way,  he  could  compel  them  to  do  whatever  he  might  wish. 
Although  he  was  able  to  counteract  these  efforts  to  some  degree, 


LA  SALLE.  71 

the  savages  hovered  around  the  ship-builders,  and  entered  the 
camp  with  a  lack  of  ceremony  rather  alarming.  They  refused  to 
sell  their  corn,  and  plotted  to  burn  the  vessel  on  the  stocks. 
Suffering  from  cold,  and  often  from  hunger,  fearing  always  a 
hostile  descent  of  the  savages,  the  men  became  discontented,  and 
it  required  Father  Hennepin's  utmost  endeavors  to  allay  their 
fears. 

Meanwhile  La  Salle  was  at  Frontenac,  whither  he  had  returned 
after  driving  the  first  bolt  of  the  brigantine,  endeavoring  to 
counteract  the  efforts  of  his  enemies.  Spreading  reports  that  he 
was  about  to  engage  in  an  extremely  dangerous  undertaking, 
enormously  expensive  and  yielding  but  little  hope  of  his  return, 
their  rumors  so  alarmed  his  creditors  in  Quebec  and  Montreal 
that  they  seized  upon  his  effects  there  and  sold  them  out  at  great 
loss  to  him.  The  delay  which  would  be  necessary  to  rectify  this 
would  prevent  the  success  of  his  expedition,  for  this  year  at  least ; 
so  he  submitted  patiently  to  his  misfortunes. 

At  last  the  ship  was  ready,  and  his  other  preparations  were 
complete.  On  the  seventh  of  August,  1679,  the  sails  of  the  Griffin 
were  spread  to  the  winds  of  Lake  Erie,  and  making  fearlessly 
for  the  midst  of  the  great  fresh  water  sea,  they  descried,  on  the 
third  day,  the  islands  in  the  western  end.  A  storm  beset  them 
in  Huron,  and  with  the  usual  bitterness  of  the  followers  of  great 
explorers,  many  of  his  men  complained  of  the  dangers  into  which 
they  had  been  led.  They  escaped  from  the  storm,  however,  but 
only  to  meet  with  new  difficulties.  Their  first  object  was  to 
make  a  favorable  impression  upon  the  Indians,  whose  friendship 
was  so  necessary  to  their  success ;  but  this  task  was  harder  than 
they  had  anticipated.  While  the  natives  received  and  entertain- 
ed La  Salle  with  great  civility,  and  looked  in  wonder  at  the 
great  wooden  canoe,  their  show  of  friendship  was  more  politic 
than  sincere,  and  produced  no  effect  upon  their  future  conduct. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  disadvantage  under  which  they  labored. 
Fifteen  men  had  been  sent  forward  to  collect  provisions,  but  had 
been  tampered  with,  and  had  squandered  a  part  of  the  merchan- 
dise with  which  they  had  been  provided  for  trading.  However, 
hoping  that  some  would  prove  faithful  to  their  trust,  a  belief 
which  later  events  justified,  they  continued  on  their  course. 

Met  at  a  point  on  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Michigan  by 
.some  of  his  men,  who  had  accumulated  a  considerable  stock  of 
furs,  La  Salle  suddenly  determined  to  make  a  remittance  to  his 


72  LA  SA1W5. 

creditors,  and,  despite  the  dissatisfaction  of  his  men,  sent  the 
brigantine  back  to  Niagara  with  the  skins.  Henceforth  their 
journey  was  to  be  made  in  canoes. 

The  company  remaining,  after  the  boat  had  left  them,  consist- 
ed of  fourteen  persons,  to  be  transported  in  four  bark  canoes. 
Through  either  stormy  or  favorable  weather  they  pursued  their 
way  until  they  reached  the  western  end  of  the  lake.  Landing 
here,  to  enjoy  a  little  rest,  the  foot-prints  of  men  were  seen  in 
the  sand.  As  La  Salle  wished  to  avoid  the  Indians  as  much  as 
possible,  he  gave  express  orders  that  each  should  be  on  his 
guard,  and  remain  perfectly  quiet.  One  enthusiastic  sportsman 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  shoot  a  bear  which  had  climbed 
a  tree  for  the  grapes  growing  in  great  profusion  over  every  such 
support,  and  the  noise  of  his  gun  was  heard  by  a  party  of  Fox 
Indians  who  were  hunting  near  by.  Creeping  silently  to  the 
camp,  in  the  night,  their  presence  was  discovered  and  the  alarm 
given.  But  the  Indians  protested  their  friendship  to  the  white 
men,  alleging  that  they  supposed  it  to  be  a  party  of  Iroquois 
whom  they  thought  were  in  the  neighborhood,  and  who  were 
their  deadly  enemies.  It  was  only  to  see  if  their  suspicions  were 
correct  that  they  had  come  so  near  the  camp. 

La  Salle  accepted  this  explanation,  not  caring  to  embroil  him- 
self unnecessarily,  and  allowed  them  to  leave  the  camp.  But 
not  long  after  they  had  gone,  the  Frenchmen  discovered  that  a 
coat  and  some  other  articles  had  been  stolen.  This  altered  the 
case.  If  they  submitted  quietly  to  this  outrage,  and  allowed  the 
theft  to  go  unpunished,  it  would  doubtless  be  often  repeated, 
and  La  Salle  determined  to  have  satisfaction.  A  short  expedi- 
tion into  the  woods  resulted  in  the  capture  of  two  Indians,  one  of 
whom  was  despatched  to  his  chief  with  a  message  that  unless 
the  stolen  articles  were  restored,  the  life  of  the  prisoner  would  be 
forfeited.  The  message  occasioned  considerable  perplexity  in 
the  Indian  camp,  for  the  articles  had  been  cut  into  many  pieces 
for  distribution  ;  and  they  decided  that  the  only  resort  would  be 
to  rescue  the  prisoner  by  force.  Acting  upon  this  decision,  they 
attempted  a  surprise,  but  their  plan  was  discovered  in  time  for 
the  Frenchmen  to  select  and  advance  to  such  a  position  as  the 
Indians  were  not  likely  to  assail.  Father  Hennepin  ascribes  the 
bloodless  settlement  of  the  trouble  to  his  own  valor  in  going 
among  the  armed  warriors  as  a  peacemaker.  Matters  were  final- 
ly  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  concerned,  by  the  Indians  pay- 


LA  SALt«.  73 

I 

ing  for  the  stolen  articles  with  skins,  and  in  the  feasts,  dances 
and  speeches  which  followed,  the  savages  exerted  their  utmost 
ingenuity  to  show  their  respect  for  the  French. 

Beaching  the  rendezvous  which  had  heen  appointed  with  Tonti, 
and  finding  that,  contrary  to  expectation,  that  party  had  not  yet 
arrived,  La  Salle  had  considerably  difficulty  in  detaining  his  men, 
who  wished  to  push  on  to  the  country  of  the  Illinois,  that  they 
might  there  obtain  the  much  needed  supplies  of  corn.  They  were 
now  at  the  mouth  of  the  Miami  river,  and  La  Salle  wishing  to 
keep  them  employed,  knowing  well  what  would  be  the  result  of 
idleness,  set  his  men  to  building  a  fort  upon  an  admirable  site 
which  presented  itself.  The  labor  of  felling  trees  and  raising  a 
breastwork  of  logs,  of  sounding  the  river  at  its  entrance  to  see 
if  it  would  admit  the  Griffin,  and  of  marking  the  main  channel 
thus  discovered,  while  messengers  were  sent  to  urge  the  captain 
of  the  vessel  to  join  them  as  soon  as  possible,  occupied  them  until 
the  end  of  November.  No  food  could  be  obtained  but  bear's 
meat,  of  which  they  speedily  grew  tired,  and  the  danger  of  mut- 
iny and  desertion  increased  from  day  to  day. 

At  last  Tonti  arrived  with  his  party,  bringing  two  canoes  load- 
ed with  deer  that  had  been  but  recently  killed,  and  the  unwel- 
come intelligence  that  the  Griffin  had  never  reached  Mackinaw, 
nor,  indeed,  had  she  ever  been  heard  from.  La  Salle,  having 
waited  as  long  as  possible,  now  determined  to  set  forward,  and 
on  the  third  of  December  the  whole  party  left  the  fort.  Some 
difficulty  was  experienced  in  finding  the  portage.  La  Salle  land- 
ed to  make  the  exploration  alone,  but  marshy  ground  compelled 
him  to  made  a  wide  circuit,  and  night  overtaking  him,  he  was 
unable  to  return  until  the  next  day ;  when,  as  we  may  suppose, 
he  was  heartily  welcomed  by  his  anxious  followers,  who  had 
feared  that  he  had  met  with  some  accident.  At  last,  the  eastern 
Indian  who  accompanied  them  found  the  portage,  and  after  carry- 
ing their  canoes  five  or  six  miles,  they  floated  down  the  Kanka- 
kee,  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Illinois. 

We  need  not  follow  them,  day  by  day,  on  this  mid-winter  voy- 
age through  the  desolate,  marshy  country  which  the  Kankakce 
drains.  For  nearly  a  month  they  saw  no  human  habitation  or 
roving  Indians.  It  was  not  until  a  day  or  so  after  Christmas  that 
they  came  upon  an  Indian  village,  deserted,  since  the  warriors 
were  hunting.  Here  they  found  stores  of  buried  corn,  which  of- 


74  tA  SALLH. 

fered  an  irresistible  temptation  to  men  who  for  months  had  had 
no  food  but  flesh. 

It  was  on  the  first  day  of  the  year  1680  that,  entering  Lake 
Peoria,  and  paddling  through  its  whole  length,  they  encountered, 
at  its  lower  end,  a  party  of  Indians  who  had  encamped  there. 
Sailing  boldly  to  the  shore,  the  sight  of  the  armed  strangers 
quickly  threw  the  whole  Indian  camp  into  confusion.  La  Salle 
did  not  wish  to  seek  hostilities,  but  he  was  well  aware  that  any 
appearance  of  timidity  would  only  invite  attack.  The  savages, 
however,  finding  that  they  were  not  beset,  offered  calumets, 


MON80  8  VISIT. 


which  the  French  accepted  with  secret  joy.  The  remainder  of 
the  day  was  passed  in  confirming  the  treaty  thus  begun,  and  both 
parties  retired  to  rest,  entirely  satisfied. 

During  the  night,  however,  this  amicable  feeling  was  destroy- 
ed. Monso,  a  chief  of  one  of  the  tribes  living  near  Fox  river, 
accompanied  by  several  Miamis,  with  valuable  presents  of  tools, 
utensils  and  weapons  of  steel,  came  to  warn  the  chiefs  of  this 
party  against  La  Salle. 

"  He  is  friend  to  the  Iroquois,  and  their  spy.  After  him  will 
come  a  war-party  of  that  tribe,  and  he  will  unite  with  them  to 


LA  SALLE.  75 

fight  the  Illinois.  Ho  is  a  bad  man.  The  French  told  me  this, 
and  I  tell  you  because  I  love  the  Illinois,  and  wish  them  to  pro- 
tect themselves  against  this  double-tongued  enemy." 

Monso  arrived  and  departed  while  the  French  were  asleep,  and 
it  was  only  by  the  change  in  the  manner  of  their  hosts  that  they 
became  aware  of  the  intrigue.  La  Salle,  on  entering  the  camp  in 
.the  morning,  was  puzzled  at  the  coolness  with  which  he  was  re- 
ceived, and  had  some  difficulty  in  drawing  the  story  from  one  of 
the  chiefs.  His  efforts  to  reassure  the  Indians  were  only  partial- 
ly successful,  for  one  of  the  chiefs  of  high  rank  made  a  long 
speech  dissuading  him  from  his  perilous  scheme  of  descending  the 
Mississippi.  The  dangers  which  would  beset  them  were  painted 
in  the  darkest  colors — crocodiles,  serpents  and  frightful  mon- 
sters ;  falls,  rapids  and  whirlpools ;  savage  and  blood-thirsty 
men  along  its  banks,  who  would  suffer  no  man  to  descend  the 
stream.  As  the  interpreter  repeated  this  speech,  La  Salle  could 
see  that  his  men  changed  countenance  at  the  fearful  picture,  be- 
lieving every  word  that  was  said.  He  saw,  too,  what  was  the  mo- 
tive of  the  Indian,  in  thus  trying  to  persuade  him  to  turn  back. 

"  The  dangers  that  you  tell  of, "  he  answered,  gravely,  "  are 
such  as  are  not  found  in  any  river.  There  are  not  so  many  in 
one  place.  ISTikanape  himself  does  not  believe  all  that  ho  has  said ; 
then  how  does  he  expect  that  we  should  think  his  words  true? 
Even  if  such  dangers  do  lie  before  us,  Frenchmen  are  brave,  and 
will  be  only  the  more  willing  to  go  on,  since  the  more  dangerous 
the  enterprise,  the  greater  will  be  the  glory.  Nikanape  desires 
our  welfare,  but  there  is  something  else  at  the  bottom  of  his 
heart — he  is  j  ealous  of  his  white  brothers.  They  have  been  frank 
and  open  with  him,  but  he  has  listened  to  the  words  of  Monso, 
who  crept  into  the  camp  at  midnight,  and  stole  off  before  the 
men  of  whom  he  had  told  lies  could  know  he  was  there.  Let 
Nikanape  say  now  if  he  has  any  cause  for  suspecting  his  white 
brothers,  and  they  will  explain  all  things  to  him." 

Nikanape  took  this  reproof  in  good  part,  and  friendship  was 
again  complete.  But  his  words  had  done  their  work;  six  of 
La  Salle' s  men  deserted,  and  he  was  only  able  to  keep  the  rest 
contented  by  putting  them  at  work  upon  a  fort  near  the  lake. 
To  this  he  gave  a  name  expressive  of  the  discouragements  and 
disasters  which  they  had  experienced— Crevecoeur,  the  Broken 
Heart.  . 

The  contradiction  of  Nikanape's  stories  about  the  dangers  and 


UL  SALLE. 

difficulties  of  the  lower  Mississippi,  by  some  wandering  Indians 
from  the  south,  greatly  encouraged  the  men,  and  they  worked 
industriously  on  the  fort  and  on  a  brigantine  which  was  to  trans- 
port them.  But  with  the  present  means  it  was  impossible  to  finish 
the  boat;  more  iron,  cordage  and  other  materials  were  needed, 
and  La  Salle  determined  to  go  for  them  himself.  That  no  time 
might  be  lost,  he  planned  an  exploring  expedition  to  the  sources * 
of  the  Mississippi,  and  despatched  Father  Hennepin  with  two 
companions,  amply  supplied  with  goods  to  exchange  for  provis- 
ions, and  for  conciliatory  presents  to  the  Indians,  upon  the  long 
voyage.  He  himself,  with  three  Frenchmen  and  an  Indian,  set 
out  two  days  later  for  the  long  overland  journey  of  twelve  hun- 
dred miles,  to  be  performed  on  foot,  through  a  country  where  the 
numerous  rivers  were  swollen  by  the  rains  and  melting  snows. 

Fortune  seemed  to  desert  the  company  when  La  Salle  departed 
from  Fort  Crevecoeur.  On  his  journey  he  found  an  admirable 
site  for  a  fort,  and  sent  word  to  Tonti,  whom  he  had  left  in  com- 
mand, to  construct  it.  The  place  chosen  was  near  that  village  of 
the  Illinois  which  had  been  deserted  when  they  passed  it,  and 
from  which  they  had  obtained  corn.  But  while  Tonti  was  exe- 
cuting these  orders,  more  than  half  of  his  company  deserted, 
taking  with  them  such  arms  and  provisions  as  they  could  carry. 
Thus  weakened  by  the  loss  of  men  and  supplies,  Tonti  could  only 
fall  back  to  the  great  village  of  the  Illinois,  there  to  await  the 
return  of  La  Salle.  The  summer  was  spent  by  the  soldiers  in 
teaching  the  Indians  the  use  of  fire-arms,  and  some  simple  mili- 
tary maneuvers ;  and  by  the  priests  in  attempting  to  communi- 
cate to  the  savages  the  doctrine  and  precepts  of  Christianity. 

They  had  been  in  the  camp  some  six  months  when  it  was  re- 
ported that  an  army  of  four  or  five  hundred  Iroquois  and  Miamis 
was  advancing  into  the  Illinois  country.  La  Salle  was  among 
them,  added  the  messenger,  conspicuous  by  his  hat  and  coat. 
The  Illinois  cried  out  against  the  treachery  of  the  French,  threat- 
ening to  put  to  death  those  who  were  in  the  camp.  It  required 
all  Tonti's  powers  of  persuasion  to  prevent  this  blow,  and  he,  as 
a  .  proof  of  his  sincerity,  offered  to  join  them,  with  his  compan- 
ions, in  an  attack  upon  the  enemy. 

The  olTcr  was  accepted,  and  when  the  great  superiority  of  the 
opposing  force  was  known,  ho  was  despatched,  at  his  own  request, 
as  mediator,  being  attended  only  by  a  priest.  The  ha£  and  jack- 
et, said  to  be  La  Salle's,  proved  to  be  worn  by  an  Iroquois  war- 


77 

rior.  The  Iroquois  made  peace,  but  afterwards,  discovering  the 
weakness  of  their  enemies,  prowled  about  the  village  and  end- 
eavored to  provoke  a  quarrel.  One  after  another,  the  Illinois 
warriors  stole  off,  and  Tonti  and  his  men,  thus  left  alone  and  face 
to  face  with  such  a  formidable  enemy,  had  but  one  course  left 
them ;  betaking  themselves  to  an  old  and  leaky  canoe,  without 
provisions  or  supplies  of  any  kind,  they  made  the  best  speed  they 
could  up  the  river.  They  had  not  traveled  far  before  the  water 
broke  into  their  canoe  so  fast  that  they  were  forced  to  leave  it,  and 
go  by  land,  two  hundred  miles,  to  the  nearest  Indian  village,  where 
they  were  certain  of  finding  friends.  Subsisting  on  such  roots  as 
they  could  find,  without  a  compass  or  path  to  guide  them,  their 
lacerated  feet  but  poorly  protected,  they  were  worn  out  with 
hunger  and  fatigue  when,  after  a  fifteen  day's  journey,  they  ar- 
rived at  their  destination,  where  they  were  kindly  received,  and 
hospitably  entertained.  La  Salle  arrived  at  Fort  Frontenac  to 
find  that  the  machinations  of  his  enemies  had  succeeded  to  their 
fullest  extent,  and  that  his  affairs  were  in  the  utmost  disorder ; 
but  the  stern  nature  of  the  adventurer,  which  never  asked  help  or 
counsel  of  his  followers,  sustained  him  through  this  trial,  and  he 
soon  started  off  again.  It  was  with  a  company  of  fifty-four  per- 
sons that  he  set  out  again  to  explore  the  Mississippi,  twenty-three 
of  whom  were  Frenchmen.  The  history  of  their  voyage  down 
the  mighty  river  is  one  succession  of  stories  of  hospitable  wel- 
comes by  the  Indians.  The  tribes  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other 
in  their  kindly  entertainment  of  the  strangers.  Only  one,  the 
Quinipissas,  received  them  at  all  unkindly,  but  La  Salle  took  no 
notice  of  the  flight  of  arrows  which  showed  their  hostility,  and 
they  desisted  from  the  attack.  Crosses  were  set  up  at  various 
points  upon  the  way,  and  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  a  column 
was  erected,  a  leaden  plate  with  suitable  inscription  buried,  and 
the  country  solemnly  taken  possession  of  in  the  name  of  the  king. 
La  Salle  wished  to  form  a  settlement  on  the  banks  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, but  his  ideas  growing  as  time  went  on,  he  determined, 
upon  arriving  at  Fort  Frontenac,  to  go  to  France  and  ask  the  as- 
sistance of  the  government  in  a  more  extensive  scheme  of  colon- 
ization than  could  be  carried  out  without  such  help.  His  friend, 
Count  de  Frontenac,  had  been  succeeded  in  the  governorship  of 
Canada  by  one  La  Barre,  who,  possessed  by  an  insatiable  jeal- 
ousy of  his  predecessor,  lost  no  opportunity  of  reversing  his  poli- 
cy and  injuring  his  friends.  To  the  enemies  of  La  Salle,  since 


78"  LA  SALLE. 

that  brave  and  resolute  explorer  had  been  so  steadily  befriended 
by  Frontenac,  he  lent  a  willing  ear,  and  repeated  their  calumnies 
to  the  court.  But  La  Salle  had  strong  and  powerful  friends  in 
Paris,  and  La  Barre's  efforts  failed.  Four  ships  were  fitted  out, 
and  about  two  hundred  and  eighty  persons  embarked,  to  settle 
in  Louisiana,  setting  sail  in  July,  1684. 

Unfortunately  for  its  success,  the  expedition  had  two  command- 
ers, of  extremely  different  temperaments,  and  neither  disposed 
to  yield  an  inch  to  the  other.  Beaujeu,  an  old  sailor  and  soldier, 
in  charge  of  the  navigation  of  the  ships,  was  indignant  at  being 
under  direction  of  a  man  who  had  no  military  rank;  La  Salle 
might  have  soothed  his  wounded  vanity  by  deferring  to  his 
judgment,  or  by  at  least  consulting  his  opinion ;  but  reserved 
and  cold,  he  matured  his  plans  in  his  own  mind,  and  issued  his 
orders  when  they  were  fully  formed.  Of  course,  Beaujeu  knew, 
before  he  accepted  the  position,  that  it  was  but  the  second  in  the 
expedition,  and  that  La  Salle  held  no  military  rank ;  but,  brood- 
ing over  the  indignities  which  he  conceived  he  suffered,  and 
offended  by  La  Salle' s  manner,  he  thwarted  and  balked  the  com- 
mander's plans  in  every  possible  way. 

Owing  partly  to  this  state  of  enmity  between  those  chief  in 
command,  partly  to  unavoidable  circumstances,  the  voyage  was 
a  succession  of  disasters.  One  ship  was  captured  by  the  Span- 
iards j  La  Salle  had  made  a  mistake  in  calculating  the  latitude 
when,  on  his  previous  expedition,  he  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  they  anchored  in  Matagorda  bay ;  one  ship  was 
wrecked  here,  and  Beaujeu  sailed  off  to  France  with  the  third  of 
the  fleet. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  became  involved  in  difficulties  with 
the  Indians.  A  bale  of  blankets  from  the  wreck  had  floated  to 
the  shore  and  had  been  appropriated  by  the  natives,  who  had 
previously  carried  off  three  men,  but  released  them  at  La  Salle's 
application.  He  thought  that  it  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to 
get  canoes  in  exchange  for  the  blankets,  and  the  second  lieuten- 
ant, Du  Hamel,  offered  to  go  with  a  party  in  his  boat  to  negoti- 
ate. Unfortunately,  this  officer  did  not  possess  that  native  tact 
in  dealing  with  the  savages  which  enabled  La  Salle  to  control 
them ;  marching  fully  armed  from  their  landing  place  to  the  vil- 
lage, and  unable  to  make  themselves  understood,  the  Indians  did 
not  know  whether  to  look  upon  them  as  friends  or  enemies. 
Their  seizure  of  a  parcel  of  skins  and  a  couple  of  canoes  was  look- 


LA  SALLE.  79 

ed  upon  as  a  declaration  of  war  ;  the  Indians  pursued  them,  over- 
took them  in  the  night  at  their  encampment  near  the  boat,  killed 
two  and  wounded  two,  and  then  fled  in  terror  at  the  discharge 
of  a  musket. 

This  unfortunate  event  cast  a  gloom  over  the  minds  of  all  the 
settlers,  many  beginning  to  murmur  at  their  condition,  and  to  talk 
of  returning  to  France.  Only  the  stern,  unbending  spirit  of  La 
Salle  kept  them  from  utter  despair;  and  his  resolution  sustained 
and  encouraged  them  even  in  the  dark  days  that  were  to  follow. 
Leaving  more  than  one-half  of  the  hundred  and  eighty  that  re- 
mained, to  construct  a  temporary  shelter  and  rude  fort  of  the  pieces 
of  timber  that  could  be  obtained  from  the  wreck,  and  directing  the 
captain  of  one  vessel  to  sail  close  along  the  shore,  La  Salle,  with 
a  force  of  fifty  men,  set  out  on  an  exploring  expedition,  desiring 
to  ascertain  if  this  were  one  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  as  he  sup- 
posed. 

The  colony  was  soon  removed  to  the  mouth  of  the  Lavaca  river, 
a  point  in  the  south-eastern  part  of  the  present  state  of  Texas  ; 
La  Salle  continued  his  explorations  and  found  that  the  Mississip- 
pi delta  was  not  anywhere  near  this  location.  Summer  and  au- 
tumn passed  in  exploring  the  surrounding  country,  in  building  a 
fort  and  houses  of  the  timbers  which  they  had  brought  from  the 
wreck  and  from  trees  laboriously  cut  down  and  transported  from 
the  forest;  in  that  task  common  to  all  the  colonies  in  the  New 
World — burial  of  the  dead. 

"With  indomitable  pluck,  La  Salle  now  resolved  to  obtain  help 
from  Canada  for  his  colony,  and  with  that  purpose  in  view  set  out 
with  a  considerable  party  in  November,  1685.  Five  months  pass- 
ed with  privation  and  discord  at  Fort  St.  Louis,  as  the  settlement 
was  called ;  no  man  knows  what  dangers  and  difficulties  besetting 
the  men  struggling  through  the  wilderness ;  at  last,  discouraged 
,and  baffled,  half  of  the  party  returned  ;  the  others  had  perished 
on  the  way.  Fever  seized  upon  the  leader,  whose  spirit  was  still 
unbroken  ;  well  for  him  had  the  disease  proved  fatal !  But  he 
recovered  from  the  slow,  wasting  sickness ;  again  his  tall  form 
and  fixed,  calm  features  rose  in  majesty  above  the  desponding, 
quarreling,  discontented  crew;  again  he  planned  to  get  help  from 
Canada ;  again,  having  lost  eight  men  in  the  canebrakes  of  Lou- 
isiana, he  was  forced  to  return  without  accomplishing  his  object. 

But  the  situation  of  the  colony  was  too  desperate  for  him  to 
despair;  he  must  keep  up  courage  for  all ;  and  with  unwearied 


80 


LA  BALUE. 


patience  he  again  organized  an  expedition  to  seek  help  in  the 
north,  setting  out  January  12,  1687.  Of  the  nearly  two  hundred 
who  had  landed,  but  forty-five  remained.  La  Salic  was  the  leader, 
therefore  he  was  the  one  to  blame ;  and  with  curiously  childish 
logic,  they  would  have  charged  all  their  misfortunes  upon  him. 
It  was  in  accordance  with  this  view  of  the  matter  that  three  of 
his  companions  on  this  last  expedition  formed  a  conspiracy  to  de- 
stroy this  bane  of  the  colonists.  They  had  already,  in  a  quarrel, 
killed  three  of  the  party,  and  given  La  Salle  to  understand  that 
the  victims  had  deserted ;  and  this  bloody  deed  probably  sug- 


ASSASSINATIOX  OF  LA  SALLE. 

gested  that  the  destruction  of  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle  would  bo  a 
preventive  of  punishment  for  these  murders.  But  the  leader  was 
not  satisfied  at  this  explanation  of  the  absence  of  men  whom  he 
had  always  known  to  be  trustworthy,  and,  with  Father  Anastase, 
and  two  natives  as  guides,  set  out  in  search  of  them.  The  bloody 
cravat  of  one  was  found,  and  the  birds  of  prey,  hovering  over 
their  heads,  aroused  their  suspicions.  The  conspirators  had 
crossed  the  stream,  and,  as  La  Salle  fired  at  the  eagles,  recrossed. 
As  one  approached  him,  he  demanded : 

"  Where  is  Moragnet  ?  "  naming  one  of  the  murdered  men. 


LA  SALLE.  81 

"  Along  the  river  bank,"  was  the  vague  reply,  and  from  the 
musket  of  his  confederate,  concealed  in  the  long  grass,  a  ball 
struck  La  Salle's  head.  The  plan  had  been  carried  out,  the 
wound  was  mortal.  The  firm  lips  were  powerless  to  utter  a  word 
during  the  one  hour  of  life  that  remained  to  him  ;  the  strong  hand 
could  only  feebly  press  that  of  Father  Anastase,  in  token  that  the 
brain  still  comprehended  the  words  of  Christian  consolation.  On 
a  spot  unknown  now,  known  then  only  to  a  priest  and  the  assas- 
sins, died  Eobert  Cavelier,  Sieur  de  la  Salle ;  a  man  who  had  ex- 
plored half  a  continent,  and  who  is  not  surpassed  by  any  in  his 
indomitable  will  and  great  achievements;  "constant  in  adversities, 
intrepid,  generous,  engaging,  adroit,  skillful,  and  capable  of  any- 
thing •"  in  the  prime  of  life,  in  the  midst  of  his  labors,  without 
having  tasted  the  fruit  of  his  toil ;  noble  in  aim,  in  character,  in 
person  ;  too  far  above  those  around  him  in  capacity,  too  haughty 
and  imperious  in  manner  ;  he  died,  the  victim  of  the  machina- 
tions of  jealous  enemies,  of  his  own  energy  and  virtues,  and  of  his 
own  faults.  Such  were  really  the  three  powers  that  conspired 
against  his  life;  three  distinct  elements  blended  in  one  by  the 
hatred  of  jealous,  unreasoning,  unmanageable  subordinates. 


CHAPTER  IH. 


CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH. 

early  history  of  Capt.  John  Smith,  the  Englishman  whose 
JL  name  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  first  permanent  settle- 
ment made  by  his  countrymen  within  our  borders,  is  a  series  of 
adventures  equalled  only  by  those  of  the  Seven  Champions  of 
Christendom  and  Jack  the  Giant- Killer.  Whether  they  are 
equally  as  authentic,  we  have  no  means  of  determining,  but  the 
more  probable  events  of  that  part  of  his  life  shall  be  briefly 
sketched  out,  and  the  reader  may  believe  as  much  as  he  chooses. 
Injustice  to  the  authorities  who  state  these  adventures  as  undoubt- 
ed facts,  let  us  remember  that  he  is  universally  conceded  to  have 
been  such  a  spirit  as  would  naturally  seek  exciting  scenes ;  that 
his  age  was  the  age  of  romantic  deeds;  that  the  actions  of  his  la- 
ter life  showed  qualities  that  could  have  been  developed  only  by 
a  course  of  training  somewhat  similar  to  that  which  he  is  said  to 
have  enjoyed. 

In  1592,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  he  had  disposed  of  all  his  boy- 
ish property  in  order  to  equip  himself  for  a  sea-voyage,  to  be 
commenced  before  his  parents  should  be  aware  of  his  plans  ;  but 
they  died  when  his  arrangements  were  still  incomplete,  leaving 
him  a  considerable  estate.  The  trip  was  only  deferred,  however, 
and  two  years  later,  finding  the  counting-house  desk  at  which  he 
had  been  placed  as  little  to  his  liking  as  school,  he  embarked  for 
the  continent  with  the  son  of  r,  nobleman.  Leaving  this  young 
gentleman's  train,  he  went  to  the  Low  Countries  and  served  as  a 
soldier  there  for  three  or  four  years  ;  returning  to  England,  to 
his  old  home,  he  lived  for  some  time  in  a  lodge  in  a  wood,  study- 
ing military  history  and  tactics,  and  supplied  with  all  the  luxu- 
ries of  civilization  by  a  faithful  servant. 

He  soon  became  tired  of  this  almost  solitary  life,  however,  and 
returned  to  the  continent,  but  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  robbed 
on  his  way  from  the  Netherlands  to  France ;  so  that  on  his  arri- 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 


83 


val  in  the  latter  country,  he  must  sell  his  cloak  to  pay  for  his 
passage.  Embarking  for  Italy,  the  devout  Catholics  in  the  ves- 
sel attributed  the  violent  tempest  which  a^ose  to  the  presence  of  the 
heretic,  and  Smith  was  thrown  overboard.  He  had  but  little  diffi- 
culty, however,  in  swimming  to  an  island  near  by,  where  he  was 
soon  picked  up  by  a  less  devout  sea-captain.  A  chance  encoun- 
ter with  a  Venetian  vessel  resulted  in  its  destruction,  and  the 


CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH. 

division  of  its  cargo  among  the  conquerers.  Smith's  share 
amounted  to  something  over  two  thousand  dollars  of  our  money, 
and  with  this  sum  he  traveled  for  a  while  in  Italy. 

But  he  soon  gratified  his  curiosity  by  the  sights  to  be  seen  here, 
and  departed  to  the  court  of  the  Archduke  of  Austria,  who  was 
then  waging  war  with  Turkey.  This  was  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  year  1601.  The  Turkish  army  laid  siege  to  Olympach,  and 
were  much  harassed  by  an  Austrian  force  surrounding  them.  If^ 


84  CAPTAIN  JOHN    SMITH. 

the  two  armies,  the  garrison  and  that  outside,  could  co-operate, 
success  would  be  almost  certain ;  but  no  one  would  venture  to 
pass  the  Turkish  lines.  Smfth  had  already  explained  to  the  com- 
mander of  the  garrison  a  system  of  signals  by  torches,  invented  by 
a  classical  author ;  and  he  now  declared  himself  ready  to  spell 
out  any  message  which  it  was  desired  to  send  to  the  besieged 
commander.  The  entire  success  of  his  plan  won  for  him  the  com- 
mand of  a  troop  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  men.  t 

In  more  than  one  similar  expedient  he  was  equally  fortunate  ; 
his  inventive  and  adaptive  genius  showed  itself  strongly  at  this 
time,  and  was  cultivated  for  the  necessities  of  his  after  life. 
Leaving  the  service  of  the  arch-duke,  and  entering  that  of  anoth- 
er prince,  who  was  contending  with  Germany  and  the  Turks  at 
once,  Smith  was  one  day  in  camp  when  a  Turk  of  rank  and  re- 
nown sent  to  challenge  any  one  of  the  Christians  to  fight  with 
him  "  to  delight  the  ladies,  who  did  long  to  see  some  courtlike 
pastime."  So  many  were  ready  to  accept  this  challenge,  that 
their  claims  had  to  be  decided  by  lot,  and  Smith  was  the  cham- 
pion thus  selected.  Not  only  did  this  Turk  fall  by  his  hand,  but 
another  who  woubd  have  avenged  his  friend's  death,  and  a  third 
whom  Smith  challenged,  met  the  same  fate.  Suitable  honors  re- 
warded him,  one  being  a  coat  of  arms  bearing  three  Turks'  heads 
on  a  shield,  and  a  Latin  motto  :  "  To  conquer  is  to  live." 

In  a  battle  shortly  after  this,  Smith  was  wounded  and  left  for 
dead  on  the  field.  The  Turks  captured  him,  and  concluding,  from 
the  richness  of  his  armor,  that  he  was  a  nobleman,  took  some 
pains  to  cure  him  in  order  to  obtain  a  large  ransom  for*him. 
Learning  their  mistake,  tl\ey  sold  him  as  a  slave ;  and  he  was 
bought  by  an  officer  and  presented  to  his  lady-love.  This  fair 
Turk,  whose  name  is  unpronounceable,  fell  violently  in  love  with 
Smith,  and  in  order  to  protect  him  from  her  mother's  ill-treat- 
ment, sent  him  to  her  brother.  To  this  brother  she  confessed  her 
affection  for  the  handsome  young  slave,  hoping  that  it  would  in- 
fluence him  to  kindness ;  but  it  had  the  opposite  effect.  Smith's 
condition  was  made  so  unendurable  that  he  determined  to  escape. 
He  at  last  succeeded  in  doing  so,  having  killed  his  master  in  an 
ungovernable  rage  excited  by  ill-treatment. 

He  had  hardly  reached  Christian  lands  again,  and  thus  become 
safe  from  pursuit,  before  he  set  sail  to  the  African  coast,  to  take 
part  in  a  civil  war  that  had  broken  out  in  Barbary.  He  had  pru- 
dently reserved  his  choice  of  party  until  he  should  know  the 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH.  85 

merits  of  each,  and  finding  that  hoth  were  equally  unworthy, 
sailed  back  to  Europe  in  the  same  vessel  in  which  he  came. 
Weary  of  his  wandering  life,  he  returned  to  England  in  1604,  and 
settling  on  his  paternal  estates,  spent  a  few  years  in  peace. 

Within  the  past  twenty  years,  various  Englishmen  had,  at  dif- 
ferent times,  received  permission  to  colonize  North  America,  but 
none  had  been  successful  in  the  enterprise.  In  1606,  a  new  com- 
pany was  formed  for  this  purpose,  and  a  charter  procured  from 
King  James  I.  That  monarch  took  an  active  interest  in  the  ex- 
pedition, and  busied  himself  in  framing  a  code  of  laws  for  their 
government.  The  summer  was  spent  in  preparations,  and  Dec. 
19, 1606,  a  squadron  of  three  small  vessels,  with  one  hundred  and 
five  colonists  on  board,  besides  the  sailors,  left  London.  Among 
the  more  important  men  were  Captains  Gosnold  and  Smith,  Ed- 
ward M.  Wingfield,  a  London  merchant,  Eichard  Hakluyt,  who 
had  been  one  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  colonists,  and  Mr.  Robert 
Hunt,  a  clergyman.  There  were  twelve  laborers,  four  carpenters 
and  forty-eight  "  gentlemen." 

Dissensions  sprang  up  during  the  voyage.  As  the  names  and 
instructions  of  the  council  appointed  for  their  local  government 
had,  by  the  folly  of  James,  been  sealed  in  a  box  not  to  be  opened 
until  they  landed,  no  competent  authority  existed  to  check  the 
progress  of  envy  and  disorder.  Their  detention  of  six  weeks  off 
the  coast  of  England,  on  account  of  contrary  winds,  did  not  prove 
a  favorable  beginning  of  the  voyage;  and  the  commander  of  the 
squadron  chose  the  very  indirect  .route  by  way  of  the  Canary 
islands.  On  their  arrival  at  these  islands,  the  flames  of  discord 
broke  out  with  renewed  fury,  and  Captain  Smith,  whose  reputa- 
tion and  manner  had  made  him  extremely  popular  with  the  main 
body  of  the  colonists,  suffered  from  the  envy  of  their  leaders.  He 
was  charged  with  entering  into  a  conspiracy  to  murder  the  council, 
usurp  the  government  and  make  himself  king  of  Virginia.  As  the 
sealed  box  was  in  their  own  hands,  it  does  not  appear  how  Smith 
was  to  be  sure  that  he  had  chosen  the  proper  victims ;  neither  is  it 
quite  clear  how  a  man  of  ordinary  common  sense  could  expect 
to  maintain  himself  as  king  of  Virginia  without  any  outside  aid, 
against  the  Indians,  who  might  prove  hostile  j  but  the  absurdity 
of  these  charges  was  overlooked,  and  he  was  kept  a  close  pris- 
oner during  the  rest  of  the  voyage. 

It  was  not  until  the  twenty-sixth  of ; April  that  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  mainland  of  North  America,  naming  the  point  Cape 


00  CAPTAIN  JOHN    SMITH. 

Henry,  in  honor  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  Sailing  up  the  James 
river  for  forty  miles,  they  found  a  country  more  beautiful  than 
any  they  had  ever  seen.  It  was  fertile  and  well  watered,  the 
landscape  picturesquely  varied  with  hills,  valleys,  and  plains,  all 
newly  decked  with  the  loveliness  of  spring.  Landing  at  Point 
Comfort  on  the  fourth  day  after  their  arrival,  they  were  approach- 
ed by  five  Indians  ;  who  at  first  seemed  afraid  of  the  strangers, 
but  were  easily  re-assured.  A  visit  to  their  town  was  proposed ; 
accepting  the  invitation,  the  Indians  gave  them  corn-bread,  to- 
bacco and  pipes,  and  entertained  them  with  a  dance. 
On  the  thirteenth  of  May,  they  pitched  on  a  place  for  their  set- 


BUILDING    OF   JAMESTOWN. 

tlement,  a  peninsula  on  the  north  side  of  the  James,  about  forty 
miles  from  the  mouth.  The  mysterious  sealed  box  was  opened, 
and  the  names  of  the  council  ascertained.  It  is  curious  that  al- 
most the  first  act  of  this  council  should  have  been  one  of  disobed- 
ience to  their  superior  power ;  for,  although  Captain  Smith  was 
expressly  named  as  one  of  their  number,  they  excluded  him  from 
all  share  in  the  government  of  the  colony. 

All  hands  set  to  work.  The  council  planned  a  fort,  but  the 
president,  Wingfield,  would  not  tolerate  the  erection  of  any  forti- 
fications, exeept  a  half-moon  of  the  boughs  of  trees.  A  "  clearing," 
to  anticipate  an  expression  used  later  in  our  history,  was  made 
in  the  forest,  their  tents  were  pitched,  garden-land  prepared, 
•  ""^ 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH.  87 

nets  made,  and  every  thing  done  to  prepare  for  the  security  and 
welfare  of  the  colony.  Soon  after,  Newport  and  Smith,  with  a 
party  of  twenty,  were  sent  out  to  discover  the  head  of  James 
river.  The  fact  that  Smith's  exclusion  from  the  council  did  not 
render  him  unwilling  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  benefit  the 
colonists  shows  what  manner  of  man  he  was.  This  expedition 
is  rendered  interesting  by  the  fact  that  they  visited  Powhatan, 
the  famous  chief  of  the  near  future,  during  their  absence;  and  won 
his  gratitude  by  the  present  of  a  hatchet.  The  savages  were  in- 
clined to  murmur  at  this  intrusion  upon  their  domains,  but 
the  chief  concealed  his  fears,  only  saying  to  them  : 

"  They  hurt  you  not;  they  take  but  a  little  waste  land." 

On  their  return,  they  found  that  the  colony  had  suffered  from 
the  carelessness  of  the  president  in  not  providing  it  with  a  suf- 
ficient defense  ;  for  the  Indians  had  attacked  it,  wounding  seven- 
teen men  and  killing  one  boy*  The  fire-arms  alarmed  the  In- 
dians,  and  compelled  them  to  retreat ;  and  the  president,  wise  by 
sad  experience,  took  steps  to  enable  the  Englishmen  to  defend 
themselves. 

Captain  Newport  was  now  ready  to  return  to  England,  and  a 
strong  effort  was  made  to  send  Captain  Smith  thither  to  be  repri- 
manded by  the  council  there,  his  enemies  claiming  that  this  would 
be  an  act  of  kindness  to  him,  as  it  would  avoid  the  publicity  of  a 
legal  trial,  which  might  injure  his  reputation  and  endanger  his 
life.  Smith  was  not  to  be  deceived  by  their  pretended  anxiety 
for  his  welfare  and  safety,  however ;  he  knew  that  he  could  not 
be  convicted  of  any  crime  except  by  a  perversion  of  justice,  and 
he  trusted  to  his  popularity  in  the  colony>to  prevent  this.  He 
accordingly  insisted  upon  being  tried,  was  acquitted  by  acclama- 
tion, and  his  chief  accuser,  President  Wingfield,  sentenced  to  pay 
a  fine  of  two  hundred  pounds.  This  seems  to  have  been  some- 
what in  the  nature  of  "  damages,"  for  Smith  had  the  entire  dis- 
posal of  it,  turning  it  over,  as  an  act  of  generosity,  to  the  general 
fund  of  the  colony. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  June,  Captain  Newport  sailed  for  England. 
By  this  time  the  colonists  had  learned  something  of  what  diffi- 
culties they  must  overcome,  what  hardships  they  must  endure. 
The  fertility  of  the  soil  rendered  the  toil  of  cultivation  greater, 
although  the  harvest  wo*uld  be  more  plentiful ;  the  summer  heat 
was  intolerable  to  the  laborers  accustomed  to  a  more  equable 
climate,  and,  in  conjunction  with  the  moisture,  generated  dis- 


88  CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 

ease  ;  their  stock  of  provisions  was  nearly  exhausted.  Unaccus- 
tomed to  work  and  to  privation,  they  sank  rapidly  under  this 
accumulation  of  troubles ;  so  that,  by  the  end  of  June,  "  hardly 
ten  of  them  were  able  to  stand."  Such  were  the  difficulties  of 
their  position,  the  imperfect  shelter,  the  unusually  hard  work, 
the  unaccustomed  heat,  the  scanty  and  insufficient  food,  the  sud- 
den change  from  the  comforts  enjoyed  in  a  highly  civilized  coun- 
try to  the  labor  and  exposure  of  the  wilderness,  that  fifty  of 
their  number  died  during  the  summer. 

The  president  and  another  member  of  the  council  had  convert- 
ed the  best  of  the  public  stores  to  their  own  use,  and  had  plotted 
to  escape  to  England  in  the  colony's  bark.  Smith  was  gradually 
rising  to  his  proper  position — that  of  the  first  place  in  the  colony. 
Given  a  company  of  men  under  any  pressing  need  of  assistance 
from  each  other,  and  the  one  best  fitted  to  give  that  aid  will  be 
their  head,  as  surely  as  cork  ri^s  to  the  surface  of  the  water. 
The  pressure  of  circumstances  had  hitherto  kept  Smith  a  sub- 
ordinate, but  he  was  rapidly  assuming  the  position  due  to  his 
character  and  abilities.  Only  three  members  of  the  council  were 
left  after  Wingfield  and  his  accomplice  had  been  expelled  from 
that  body  ;  and  of  these  two  were  extremely  unpopular.  Surely 
that  ruler  who  can  retain  the  affections  of  a  people  discontented 
with  their  circumstances  must  have  a  genius  for  government ! 

Smith's  words  and  deeds  .soon  re-animated  the  colonists  ;  tak- 
ing upon  himself  the  most  laborious  part  of  the  work,  he  soon  had 
sufficient  shelter  for  them  from  the  approaching  winter;  their 
stock  of  provisions  being  well-nigh  exhausted,  he  resolved  to  make 
search  for  a  fresh  supply.  Proceeding  by  water,  with  only  five 
or  six  men,  to  where  Hampton  now  stands,  he  fell  in  with  some 
Indians  and  endeavored  to  get  food  from  them.  But  the  cunning 
savages  knew  very  well  the  state  of  affairs  at  Jamestown,  and 
would  mockingly  offer  the  poor  half-starved  Englishmen  a  hand- 
ful of  corn,  or  a  morsel  of  bread,  in  exchange  for  guns  and  cloth- 
ing. This  was  not  to  be  borne,  and  the  Indians  retreated  hastily 
into  the  woods  before  a  volley  of  musketry.  Marching  to  their 
houses,  he  found  plenty  of  corn,  but  would  not  permit  his  men  to 
touch  it,  as  he  expected  the  Indians  to  return  with  a  large  force 
to  attack  them.  In  this  he  was  not  disappointed.  A  body  of 
sixty  or  seventy  warriors,  horrid  in  war-paint,  and  bearing  a 
singular  idol  of  stuffed  and  painted  skins,  soon  appeared,  singing 
and  dancing,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows  and  clubs.  A  second 


CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH.  89 

volley  dispersed  them  in  terror,  bringing  several  to  the  ground 
and  prostrating  their  idol.  This  latter  loss  was  not  to  be  endur- 
ed, and  a  priest  was  sent  to  negotiate  for  the  restoration  of  the 
monster.  Smith  told  them  that  if  six  of  them  would  come  un- 
armed and  load  his  boat  with  corn,  he  would  not  only  return 
their  idol,  but  give  them  beads  and  hatchets  besides.  They  joy- 
fully accepted  these  terms  and  brought  not  only  corn,  but  turkeys, 
venison  and  wild  fowl  in  large  quantities. 

We  may  imagine  the  welcome  which  Smith  received  on  his  re- 
turn ;  but  it  was  a  gratitude  that  did  not  prompt  them  to  save 
him  trouble  or  danger.  Their  wastefulness  was  so  great  that 
many  such  journeys  must  be  made  during  the  fall,  although  the 
Indians  were  now  so  amicably  disposed  that  they  met  him  with 
baskets  of  corn  as  he  landed.  His  absence  from  the  colony  was 
like  the  turning  of  the  school  teacher's  back — everything  was  in 
confusion  at  once.  Wingfield  and  Kendall  renewed  their  plot  for 
escaping  to  England,  and  although  this  project  was  nipped  in  the 
bud  by  Smith's  unexpectedly  early  return,  itVas  not  done  with- 
out a  skirmish,  in  which  Kendall  was  killed.  An  attempt  of  two 
others  to  abandon  the  country  was  also  frustrated  by  Smith's 
power  and  influence.  The  quaint  old  chronicler  tells  us  :  "  The 
Spaniard  never  more  greedily  desired  gold  than  he  victual,  nor 
his  soldiers  more  to  abandon  the  country  than  he  to  keep  it." 

The  influence  of  plentiful  food  was  soon  apparent.  At  the  ap- 
proach of  winter,  the  river  was  covered  with  wild-fowl,  and  the 
Indians  supplied  them  bountifully  with  corn,  beans  and  pump- 
kins. This  abundance  of  good  cheer  raised  their  spirits  and  cured 
their  home-sickness;  and  for  a  little  while  the  colony  enjoyed 
peace. 

The  South  Sea  was  considered  the  ocean-path  to  every  kind  of 
wealth.  The  western  coast  of  the  continent  had  been  explored 
by  the  Spaniards  and  by  Drake,  and  the  maps  of  that  day  exhib- 
ited a  tolerably  accurate  delineation  of  North  America;  but  with 
singular  ignorance,  the  colonists  had  been  directed  to  seek  com- 
munication with  the  South  Sea  by  ascending  a  river  that  flowed 
from  the  northwest.  Such  a  stream  was  the  Chickahominy,  and 
up  this  Smith  proceeded  on  an  exploring  expedition ;  leaving  the 
helpless  colony  to  itself  unwillingly  enough,  but  driven  to  the 
task  by  the  rebukes  of  the  council  for  his  dilatoriness  in  obeying 
the  injunctions  of  his  superiors.  Ascending  as  far  as  his  barge 
could  float,  sometimes  being  obliged  to  cut  a  way  through  the 


90 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 


trees  that  had  fallen  into  the  river,  he  left  the  vessel  in  charg\  of 
the  main  party,  with  strict  injunctions  not  to  leave  it,  and  with 
two  Englishmen  as  companions,  and  two  Indians  as  guides,  as- 
cended still  farther  in  a  canoe.  Leaving  this  boat  in  the  care  of 
the  two  white  men,  he  proceeded  to  the  head  of  the  river,  twenty 
miles  farther  on,  and  occupied  himself  in  shooting  game. 


SMITH  SURPRISED   BY   THE   SAVAGES. 


Almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  his  orders  were  disregarded  by 
the  men  left  at  the  barge,  and  they  went  straggling  into  the 
woods.  Here  they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  Opechancanough, 
brother  of  Powhatan,  with  a  force  of  three  hundred  men.  One 
of  their  number  was  taken  prisoner,  and  the  others  had  consid- 
erable difficulty  in  escaping.  The  Indians  extorted  from  their 
prisoner  all  that  he  knew  of  Captain  Smith's  whereabouts,  and 
then  put  him  to  death  in  the  most  barbarous  manner.  Follow- 
ing the  path  of  the  leader,  they  came  upon  the  two  men  left  in 
charge  of  the  canoe,  sleeping  by  a  fire,  and  killed  them.  Smith 
was  wounded  in  the  thigh  by  an  arrow,  but  using  one  of  his 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH.  91 

guides  as  a  shield,  by  desperate  fighting,  killed  three  Indians 
and  wounded  many  others.  He  might  have  succeeded  in  escap- 
ing, but  paying  more  attention  to  his  enemies  than  to  the  line  of 
retreat,  he  sank  waist-deep  in  a  morass.  Even  here,  such  was 
the  terror  inspired  by  his  courage  and  his  gun,  that  they  dared 
not  approach  him,  until,  being  almost  dead  with  cold,  he  threw 
away  his  arms  and  surrendered  himself. 

As  they  led  him  to  the  fire,  and  chafed  his  benumbed  limbs, 
he  was  in  momentary  expectation  of  a  cruel  death,  but  his  pres- 
ence of  mind  did  not  desert  him.  He  knew  that  any  exhibition 
of  fear  or  of  a  desire  for  life,  would  do  him  harm  rather  than 
good.  Without  thus  incurring  their  contempt  he  demanded  to 
see  their  chief.  Displaying  to  Opechancanough  a  pocket  com- 
pass, he  amused  him  and  the  Indians  that  gathered  around  by 
an  explanation  of  its  powers  ;  the  vibrations  of  the  needle  and 
the  transparency  of  the  glass  were  alike  wonderful.  Smith  fur- 
ther tried  to  explain  to  them  the  courses  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
the  spherical  shape  of  the  earth,  the  alternation  of  day  and 
night,  the  extent  of  the  continents  and  oceans,  the  relative  posi- 
tions of  nations  and  their  antipodes,  and  many  other  every  day 
matters  (to  us)  which  were  doubtless  extremely  wonderful  to 
the  savages,  always  providing  that  they  understood  one-half  of 
what  he  told  them. 

Led  in  a  sort  of  triumphal  procession  to  their  chief  town,  he 
was  served  so  liberally  with  provisions  that  he  thought  they 
must  intend  to  kill  and  eat  him  as  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  fat, 
and  the  prospect  did  not  tend  to  sharpen  his  appetite.  The 
winter  was  an  unusually  severe  one  on  both  continents,  and  Smith 
was  nearly  perishing  with  the  cold,  when  an  Indian  to  whom,  on 
his  first  arrival,  he  had  given  some  beads  and  trinkets,  brought 
him  a  fur  garment,  a  most  acceptable  gift. 

The  Indians  were  .making  great  preparations  for  an  attack  on 
Jamestown,  and  wished  Smith  to  help  them ;  promising  him  as  a 
reward  for  such  service,  not  only  life  and  liberty,  but  as  much 
land  and  as  many  women  as  he  could  wish.  Ho  knew  only  too  well 
what  must  be  the  confusion  prevailing  in  Jamestown,  and  endeav- 
ored to  dissuade  them  from  their  purpose,  describing  to  them  the 
dangers  which  they  must  face,  from  the  springing  of  mines 
and  from  the  warlike  engines.  But  his  efforts  were  not  com- 
pletely successful  until  he  had  proven  the  truth  of  his  words. 
They  assented  to  his  proposition  to  send  messengers  to  the  colony, 


92  CAPTAIN   JOHN   SMITH. 

and  he  wrote  a  note,  telling  his  countrymen  of  the  danger  that 
threatened,  desiring  them  to  send  him  certain  articles,  and 
instructing  them  to  give  the  messengers  a  wholesome  fright.  He 
told  the  Indians  what  would  happen  to  them,  but  they  only 
half  believed  him;  but  when,  on  reaching  the  neighborhood  of 
Jamestown,  they  saw  men  coming  out  to  meet  them,  they  turned 
and  fled  in  dismay,  for  the  first  of  his  prophecies  had  been  ful- 
filled ;  fortunately  in  their  flight  they  had  dropped  the  note. 
Coming  back  cautiously  in  the  evening,  they  found  the  very 
things  that  Smith  had  told  them  would  be  sent  to  him.  When 
they  returned  to  camp,  and  made  known  the  wonderful  adven- 
ture, the  Indians  concluding  that  a  man  who  "  could  make  the 
paper  speak,"  was  not  to  be  trifled  with,  laid  aside  all  thoughts 
of  attacking  Jamestown,  and  carried  him  about  the  country  in 
triumph,  exhibiting  him  to*  the  various  tribes. 

It  was  very  hard  for  them  to  decide  whether  he  was  a  good  or 
an  evil  spirit ;  it  was  only  certain  that  he  was  a  being  of  a  higher 
order.  In  order  to  determine  his  nature,  they  practiced  incanta- 
tions about  him  for  three  days,  but,  it  seems,  without  any  result. 
It  was  reserved  for  Powhatan,  the  brother  of  Opechancanough,  and 
a  council  of  warriors  to  decide  his  fate.  The  verdict  was  death, 
and  they  prepared  to  execute  the  sentence  without  delay.  Two 
large  stones  were  brought  in,  and  his  head  placed  upon  them. 
The  immense  clubs  were  raised  by  the  savage  executioners,  who 
looked  for  their  chief  to  give  the  signal  for  the  blow,  when  the 
"tenne  or  twelve  years  old  daughter"  of  Powhatan  sprang  for- 
ward and  laid  her  own  head  upon  the  captive's,  so  that  the  blow 
must  first  kill  her.  He  had  easily  won  her  affections,  the  differ- 
ence between)  his  personal  appearance  and  that  of  her  kinsmen 
perhaps  first  attracting  her  childish  eyes  ;  but  her  entreaties  had 
not  availed  •  now,  however,  she  clung  to  his  neck,  refusing  to 
leave  him  until  his  safety  should  be  assured.  The  story  has  been 
doubted  ;  disproved  almost  as  conclusively,  to  a  sceptical  mind, 
as  that  of  William  Tell  and  the  apple,  or  George  Washington  and 
his  hatchet;  but  it  rests  on  Smith's  own  authority,  being  found 
in  his  work  on  Virginia ;  and  one  would  think  that  he  ought  to 
know. 

Pocahontas  not  only  saved  Smith's  life,  but  procured  his  liberty. 
With  the  childish  superstition  of  an  untutored  race,  the  Indians 
looked  upon  her  interference  as  dictated  by  some  higher  power, 
and  Powhatan  released  him,  on  condition  that  two  pieces  of  can- 


CAPTAIN   JOHN   SMITH.  93 

non  and  a  grindstone  be  sent  to  him.  Arrived  safely  at  James- 
town, Smith  ordered  two  demi-culverins  to  be  loaded  with  stones 
and  fired  into  a  group  of  trees  covered  with  icicles,  as  an.  evidence 
of  their  power.  As  the  boughs  and  ice  came  rattling  down,  the 
frightened  Indians  decided  that  the  guns  would  be  too  heavy, 
and  gladly  accepted  a  few  trinkets  in  their  place. 

\ 


SMITH  SAVED  BY  POCAHONTAS. 


As  usual  when  he  returned  after  any  absence,  Smith  found  the 
colony  in  the  utmost  confusion ;  one  party  having  determined  to 
go  back  to  England.  Captain  Smith,  however,  brought  his  can- 
non to  bear  upon  the  bark,  threatening  to  sink  her  if  they  per- 
sisted in  going.  In  revenge  for  this,  several  of  them  formed  a 
conspiracy  to  put  him  to  death,  saying  that  he  had  led  to  death 


94  CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 

the  three  men  killed  when  he  was  captured,  and  was  consequently 
guilty  of  their  murder ;  but  Smith  soon  showed  them  their  weak- 
ness and^  his  strength.  The  colonists  were  encouraged  by  the 
plentiful  supply  of  provisions  with  which  they  were  now  fur- 
nished by  the  Indians,  Pocahontas  with  her  attendants  visiting 
them  every  few  days,  and  bringing  them  an  abundance  of  food. 
The  other  savages,  also,  brought  in  corn,  and  sold  it  to  Smith  at 
his  own  price. 

This  prosperity  was  destroyed  oy  the  action  of  Newport,  who, 
with  ostentatious  prodigality,  gave  them  many  times  as  much 
for  their  goods  as  Smith  would  allow  them.  The  president  and 
council,  also,  jealous  of  Smith's  popularity,  pursued  the  same 
course. 

A  destructive  fire  broke  out  in  Jamestown  not  long  after  New- 
port's arrival,  and  occasioned  them  a  considerable  loss  in  arms, 
bedding,  wearing  apparel  and  provisions.  The  ship  remained 
fourteen  weeks,  instead  of  two,  the  crew  gathering  up  the  sand 
and  earth  in  which  the  glittering  mica  resembled  gold ;  and  with 
this  increased  number  for  so  long  a  time,  and  the  necessity  of 
victualling  the  ship  with  no  stingy  hand,  lest  the  sailors  prevent 
others  from  joining  them,  they  ran  very  short  of  food. 

For  some  time  after  the  departure  of  the  vessel,  the  colonists 
wer,e  considerably  annoyed  by  the  Indians.  Powhatan,  reading 
Newport's  character  readily,  sent  him  twenty  fat  turkeys,  with  a 
request  for  as  many  swords  in  return.  Meeting  with  success,  he 
tried  the  same  plan  with  Captain  Smith  ;  disappointed  here,  he 
ordered  his  warriors  to  hover  around  Jamestown  and  take  pos- 
session of  the  Englishmen's  weapons  whenever  possible.  The 
colonists  had  received  strict  orders  to  remain  at  peace  with  the 
Indians,  and  "  this  charitable  humor  prevailed  till  well  it  chanced 
they  meddled  with  Captain  Smith."  As  a  consequence  of  his 
prompt  and  energetic  action,  Powhatan  sent  to  sue  for  peace,  dis- 
claiming the  acts  of  his  warriors.  Pocahontas  was  one  of  the 
messengers,  and  for  her  sake  only,  as  he  pretended,  Captain  Smith 
consented  to  liberate  the  prisoners  he  had  taken  and  conclude 
a,  peace. 

The  arrival  of  the  Phoenix  aroused  them  to  new  activity,  not 
only  from  the  ample  stock  of  provisions  which  it  brought,  but 
from  the  influence  of  the  commander,  Captain  Nelson,  whose 
generous  and  manly  conduct  ably  seconded  Smith's  efforts.  In 
June,  1608,  this  vessel  set  sail  for  England,  accompanied  a  short 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH.  95 

distance  by  Smith,  who,  with  a  party  of  fourteen  men,  had  been 
sent  to  explore  the  coast.  Parting  with  the  Phoenix  at  Cape 
Henry,  they  explored  the  bay  as  far  as  the  Potomac,  and  returned 
July  21st.  Although  in  Jamestown  only  three  days  before  set- 
ting out  on  another  expedition,  Smith  was  during  that  short  in- 
terval elected  president,  being  thus  accorded  the  honors  where 
he  had  so  long  done  the  work.  On  neither  the  first  or  second  ex- 
pedition did  they  meet  with  any  adventures  of  particular  interest, 
although  on  the  second  they  were  often  attacked  by  parties  of 
Indians.  These  fights,  however,  resulted  always  in  the  same 
way — the  repulse  of  the  red  men  with  no  loss  06  the  part  of  the 
whites.  Smith  and  his  party  returned  to  Jamestown  early  in 
September,  having,  in  three  months,  sailed  about  three  thousand 
miles,  and  explored  the  whole  coast  of  Chesapeake  Bay.  The 
map  which  he  drew  is,  even  in  the  light  of  modern  geographical 
knowledge,  of  considerable  accuracy. 

Soon  after  their  return,  Captain  Newport  arrived  with  new  in- 
structions from  the  council  in  England.  Like  many  of  the  others 
interested  in  the  colony,  he  was  very  jealous  of  Captain  fSmith, 
and  had  induced  the  company  in  England  to  grant  him  such  pow- 
ers as  would  enable  him  to  gratify  his  own  conceit  and  outdo  the 
exploits  of  his  rival.  He  obtained  from  them  a  special  commis- 
sion to  act  independently  of  the  council  of  Yirginia  in  organising 
an  expedition  to  accomplish  one  of  three  purposes  :  either  to  find 
a  lump  of  gold,  to  discover  a  certain  passage  to  the  Pacific,  or  to 
obtain  information  of  the  lost  colonists  of  Eoanoke.  They  prob- 
ably stated  the  desired  ends  in  what  they  thought  the  order  of 
their  importance.  As  the  party  would  be  obliged  to  pass  through 
Powhatan's  country,  they  sent  as  conciliatory  presents  a  bed  and 
chair  of  state,  a  suit  of  scarlet  clothes,  a  cloak  and  a  crown.  A 
barge,  which  was  so  built  that  it  could  easily  be  taken  to  pieces 
and  put  together  again,  had  been  provided  for  the  trip. 

Smith  saw  at  a  glance  the  difficulties  which  would  beset  them, 
as,  weakened  by  privation  and  disease,  they  attempted,  in  mid- 
winter, to  make  their  way  through  an  unknown  country,  full  of 
merciless  enemies.  Then,  too,  he  said,  Powhatan  could  always 
be  bought  by  a  piece  of  copper  or  a  few  beads,  while  these  pres- 
ents would  give  him  so  great  an  idea  of  his  own  importance  as 
to  make  him  unendurably  insolent  for  the  future.  Notwithstand- 
ing his  arguments,  however,  the  council  decided  to  despatch 
Captain  Newport  with  a  hundred  and  twenty  chosen  men,  leaving 


96  CAPTAIN  JOHN    SMITH. 

only  eighty  or  ninety  weak  and  sickly  ones  behind,  to  load  the 
ship.  This  expedition  returned  to  the  colony  disheartened,  be- 
fore a  week  had  passed. 

The  ship,  on  its  last  arrival,  had  brought  over  new  immigrants, 
among  whom  were  two  women,  the  first  who  had  come  to  the 
colony.  The  greater  part  of  the  men  were  so-called  "gentle- 
men"— men  ashamed  to  work,  but  not  ashamed  to  get  money  by 
any  other  means.  Incited  by  the  words  and  example  of  the  pres- 
ident, however,  who  worked  with  them,  many  of  them  set  to  work 
felling  trees ;  so  great  was  their  profanity  while  engaged  in  this 
labor,  especially  trying  to  their  delicate  hands,  that  Smith  kept 
a  record  of  each  one's  oaths  during  the  day,  and  poured  the  same 
number  of  cans  of  cold  water  down  the  offender's  sleeve  at  night. 
This  original  punishment  soon  effected  the  desired  end,  but  there 
were  many  other  difficulties  to  contend  with,  resulting  like  this 
from  the  kind  of  men  sent  out  by  the  company. 

The  supplies  of  food  received  from  the  Indians  were  exceeding- 
ly scanty  and  uncertain,  and  Smith  desired  to  put  the  colony 
beyo»d  the  danger  of  want.  He  accordingly  formed  the  plan  of 
making  Powhatan  his  prisoner,  knowing  that  by  this  means  he 
could  force  the  Indians  to  provide  him  amply  with  food.  For 
this  purpose,  he  proposed  to  go  to  Kecoughtan,  and  was  making 
preparations  when  Powhatan  sent  an  invitation  to  the  white 
men  to  visit  him ;  with  a  promise  that  he  would  load  their  ship 
with  corn,  if  they  would  build  him  a  house  and  give  him  a  grind- 
stone, fifty  swords,  some  muskets,  a  cock  and  a  hen,  and  a  large 
quantity  of  beads  and  copper.  But  the  men  sent  to  build  the 
house  betrayed  Smith's  intentions  to  Powhatan,  and  the  wily 
savage  was  put  upon  his  guard. 

Smith  set  out  with  a  party  of  forty-six  volunteers  to  execute 
his  purpose,  and  was  liberally  entertained  by  Powhatan,  who 
gave  no  intimation  of  his  knowledge  of  the  plot  against  himself. 
He  disposed  his  warriors  so  carefully,  however,  that  Smith  did 
not  find  it  prudent  to  attack  him.  The  Indians  prepared  to  fall 
upon  the  English  and  destroy  them  that  night,  as  they  were  en- 
camped near  Kecoughtan.  "  Notwithstanding,  the  eternal,  all- 
seeing  God  did  prevent  him,  and  by  a  strange  means.  For  Poca- 
hontas,  his  dearest  jewel  and  daughter,  in  that  dark  night,  came 
through  the  irksome  woods,  and  told  our  captain  great  cheer 
should  be  sent  us  bye  and  bye;  but  Powhatan,  and  all  the  power 
he  could  make,  would  after  come  kill  us  all,  if  they  that  brought 


CAPTAIN    JOHN    SMITH.  97 

t 

it  could  not  kill  us  with  our  own  weapons,  while  we  were  at 
supper.  Therefore,  if  we  would  live,  she  wished  us  presently  to 
be  gone.  Such  things  as  she  delighted  in  he  would  have  given 
her;  but  with  the  tears  running  down  her  cheeks,  she  said  she 
durst  not  be  seen  to  have  any ;  for,  if  Powhatan  should  know  it, 
she  were  but  dead ;  and  so  she  ran  away  by  herself,  as  she  came/' 
Could  anything  be  added  to  the  simple  words  of  the  old  chron- 
icle to  make  the  picture  more  touching?  It  was  impossible  for 
the  English  to  return  to  Jamestown  until  the  tide  should  change, 
and  they  remained  where  they  were,  so  on  their  guard  that  no 
blow  was  struck ;  and  the  party  soon  departed  for  Pamunkey. 

JSTo  sooner  were  the  Englishmen  out  of  sight  than  Powhatan 
sent  two  of  the  G-erman  builders,  whose  treachery  was  wholly  un- 
suspected by  Smith,  to  impose  a  plausible  story  upon  the  English 
at  Jamestown.  Everything  was  going  well,  they  said,  but  Cap- 
tain Smith  had  need  of  some  weapons,  ammunition  and  clothing. 
These  were  given  to  them  without  any  hesitation,  and,  with  six 
or  seven  !)f  the  more  timid  colonists  whom  they  prevailed  upon 
to  join  them,  they  returned  to  Kecoughtan.  This  trick,  together 
with  their  peculiar  dexterity  in  stealing,  and  the  skill  of  one  of 
their  number  who  was  a  blacksmith,  added  to  the  stores  of  Pow- 
hatan the  much-desired  weapons  of  the  white  men. 

The  visit  to  Pamunkey  had  very  nearly  resulted  in  the  same 
way  as  that  to  Kecoughtan  would  have  ended  but  for  the  inter- 
ference of  Pocahontas.  Opechancanough  was  frightened  into 
providing  them  with  sufficient  corn,  but  while  he  was  still  enter- 
taining them  with  the  greatest  professions  of  friendship,  seven 
hundred  warriors  surrounded  the  house,  fully  armed,  ready  to 
shoot  the  first  Englishman  that  appeared.  The  treacherous  sav- 
age endeavored  to  quiet  Smith's  suspicions,  and  invited  him  to 
come  outside  the  door  to  receive  a  present.  Captain  Smith,  who 
strongly  suspected  his  perfidious  purpose,  no  longer  restrained 
his  indignation,  but  seizing  him  by  his  long  scalp-lock,  and  clap- 
ping his  pistol  to  his  breast,  led  him  out  trembling  into  the  midst 
of  his  people.  The  result  was  an  immediate  surrender  of  their 
arms,  and  a  most  plentiful  supply  of  food  ;  they  thronged  around 
Captain  Smith  with  their  commodities,  in  such  numbers,  for  two 
or  three  hours,  that  he  became  absolutely  tired  out  with  the  bar- 
tering, although  the  corn  was  readily  sold  at  the  £rice  he  fixed. 
Falling  asleep  after  this  labor,  the  Indians  showed  their  sincerity 
by  attacking  his  party,  but  were  speedily  routed. 


98  CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 

» 

Leaving  Pamunkey  upon  receipt  of  the  sad  intelligence  that 
eleven  of  the  colonists  had  been  drowned,  Smith  returned  to 
Jamestown  by  way  of  Kecoughtan.  Powhatan  had  commanded 
his  subjects,  on  pain  of  death,  to  kill  Captain  Smith  by  some 
means  or  othei%  while  the  Englishman  had  not  yet  given  up  the 
idea  of  capturing  the  chief.  Both  parties  were  so  on  the  alert  that, 
although  there  were  many .  stratagems,  none  succeeded.  Pow- 
hatan could  not  induce  the  Indians  to  attack  the  settlers  openly, 
on  account  of  their  terror  of  fire-arms ;  and  they  were  ready  to 
propitiate  by  loads  of  provisions  if  they  had  any  reason  to  sus- 
pect Smith  of  hostility  toward  them.  The  most  important 
stratagem  of  those  mentioned  was  the  attempt  to  poison  their 
guests ;  which,  fortunately  for  all  the  white  men  in  Virginia, 
was  unsuccessful. 

Arriving  at  Jamestown,  Smith  found,  as  usual,  that  no  work 
had  been  done  during  his  absence.  Their  provisions  had  been 
much  injured  by  the  rain,  and  many  of  their  tools  and  weapons 
had  been  stolen  by  the  Indians.  The  new  charter  which  had 
recently  taken  the  place  of  the  original  one,  gave  much  more 
power  to  the  president,  who  had  previously  been  to  a  great 
degree  under  the  control  of  the  council.  While  this  was  an 
evil,  because  it  admitted  of  such  gross  abuses  as  only  the  one-man 
power  can,  it  worked  for  good  under  the  wise  administration  of 
Smith.  The  food  already  on  hand,  together  with  that  recently 
obtained  from  the  Indians,  was  enough  to  keep  them  for  a  year, 
properly  used,  and  they  were  rigorously  prohibited  from  wast- 
ing it.  Six  hours  a  day  must  be  spent  in  labor  by  each  man, 
while,  previously,  thirty  or  forty  industrious  men  had  worked 
hard  to  maintain  the  idlers,  numbering  three  times  as  many. 

From  time  to  time  they  missed  powder,  shot,  arms  and  tools, 
and  for  a  long  period  were  unable  to  account  for  the  continual 
lessening  of  such  stores.  At  last  they  discovered  that  these  arti- 
cles were  secretly  conveyed  to  the  Germans  who  were  with  Pow-. 
hatan,  by  confederates  in  the  town.  Four  or  five  of  these  at- 
tempted to  desert,  but  meeting  some  of  their  comrades  in  the 
woods,  went  back,  to  disarm  suspicion.  At  about  the  same  time, 
forty  or  fifty  Indians  were  lying  in  ambush  about  a  mile  from 
Jamestown,  waiting  to  attack  Captain  Smith.  He  had  already 
been  informed  that  one  of  the  Germans  was  in  the  wood,  and 
with  a  party  of  twenty,  marched  to  the  place  where  he  was  said 
to  be;  but  did  not  find  him.  Despatching  his  followers  to  inter- 


CAPTAIN  JOHN    SMITH. 


99 


cept  the  renegade  on  his  way  back  to  Kecoughtan,  Smith,  armed 
only  with  a  sword,  returned  alone  towards  Jamestown. 

His  disregard  of  his  own  safety  had  nearly  resulted  fatally,  for 
he  had  not  been  long  out  of  the  hearing  of  his  own  men  before  he 
met  the  gigantic  and  powerful  chief  of  the  Pashiphays,  a  tribu- 
tary of  Powhatan's  and  leader  of  the  warriors  in  ambush.  He  at 


DESPERATE   FIGHT  WITH  THE   CHIEF   OF   THE  PASHIPHAYS. 

I  first  tried,  by  cunning,  to  get  Smith  within  range  of  the  arrows 
of  his  men,  but  failing  in  this,  attempted  to  shoot  him.    The  bow 
was  strung,  the  arrow  fitted  to  its  place,  when  Smith  suddenly 
grappled  with  him,  and  the  two  struggled  for  dear  life, 
must  bend  his  every  power  to  prevent  Jua  antagonist  from  gain- 


100  CAPTAIN  JOHN    SMITH. 

ing  the  mastery ;  relax  his  grasp  a  moment,  to  seize  a  weapon, 
and  he  was  a  doomed  man.  But  the  superior  strength  of  the  huge 
savage  was  gradually  making  itself  felt,  and  Smith  could  feel 
himself  being  dragged  to  the  river.  At  last,  notwithstanding  his 
efforts,  both  were  in  the  water,  the  Indian  trying  to  drown  the 
white  man.  A  despairing  clutch  at  the  throat  of  the  savage  near- 
ly strangled  him,  and  as  he  relaxed  his  hold  a  moment,  Smith 
drew  his  sword.  The  dusky  giant  no  longer  resisted,  but  begged 
most  piteously  for  his  life.  Captain  Smith  led  him  prisoner  to 
Jamestown  and  put  him  in  chains. 

Captain  Smith  made  an  effort  to  exchange  his  captive  for  the 
Germans  who  were  with  Powhatan,  but  they  refused  to  come, 
and  the  chief  would  not  force  them.  While  negotiations  were 
slowly  progressing,  the  captive  chief  escaped  from  Jamestown, 
and  the  Englishmen  had  no  prisoner  to  exchange.  * 

Captain  Smith  next  went  on  an  expedition  against  the  Pashi- 
phays,  to  punish  them  for  past  misconduct  and  to  frighten  them 
into  good  behavior  in  the  future.  Several  of  the  Indians  were 
killed,  their  houses  were  burned,  and  their  canoes  and  fishing- 
weirs  taken,  some  of  the  latter  being  fixed  at  Jamestown.  As  he 
was  returning,  he  was  assaulted  by  a  party  of  them,  who  threw 
down  their  arms  and  sued  for  peace  when  they  saw  who  it  was. 
Peace  was  made  on  condition  that  they  would  supply  him  with 
provisions,  which  they  gladly  did. 

On  his  return  to  Jamestown,  Smith  found  that  the  Indians  had 
been  guilty  of  various  thefts;  among  other  things,  a  pistol  had 
been  stolen,  and  the  thief  had  escaped  with  his  booty.  His  two 
brothers,  however,  were  still  at  their  usual  home,  and  were  ar- 
rested and  brought  to  Jamestown.  Thence  one  was  sent  to  the 
thief,  with  the  message  that  if  the  pistol  were  not  restored  before 
midnight,  the  third  brother,  who  was  kept  a  prisoner,  would  be 
hanged.  The  prisoner  was  placed  in  a  dark,  cold  dungeon, 
where  Captain  Smith,  pitying  his  condition  as,  naked,  he  lay 
shivering  and  hungry,  sent  him  food  and  some  charcoal  to  make 
a  fire. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  before  the  messenger  returned,  trem- 
bling lest  he  should  be  too  late.  The  pistol  was  restored,  and 
the  dungeon  opened  to  liberate  the  captive — he  lay  upon  the 
floor,  motionless,  cold.  The  poor  messenger,  who  had  used  his 
utmost  speed  to  save  his  brother,  broke  into  the  wildest  lamen- 
tations over  his  body.  Smith  knew  that  the  swoon  resulted  from 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH.  101 

a  neglect  to  open  the  barred  window  to  let  the  fumes  of  the  char- 
coal escape,  and  told  the  mourner  that  he  would  restore  his  bro- 
ther. Brandy  and  vinegar  brought  back  his  consciousness,  but 
his  mind  was  so  confused  that  his  brother  was  as  much  alarmed 
as  ever.  A  night's  sleep,  however,  restored  him  fully,  and  the 
wondering  savages  were  dismissed,  with  a  present,  to  spread  the 
story  of  the  dead  restored  to  life  by  Captain  Smith. 

Another  incident,  about  the  same  time,  taught  them  that  all 
the  superiority  of  the  white  men  did  not  lie  in  their  tools  and 
arms.  An  Indian  had,  by  some  means,  gotten  hold  of  a  bag  of 
gunpowde.r  and  the  back-piece  of  a  suit  of  armor.  He  had  seen 
the  soldiers  at  Jamestown  dry  powder  over  the  fire  in  such  a 
receptacle,  and  proceeded  to  display  his  knowledge  to  his  admir- 
ing countrymen  by  imitating  the  process.  Unfortunately  for 
himself,  he  continued  it  too  long;  the  powder  exploded,  killing 
him  and  one  or  two  of  those  peeping  curiously  over  his  shoulder, 
and  wounding  several  others.  This,  together  with  their  past  ex- 
perience in  facing  the  fire  of  guns,  made  them  doubly  desirous 
of  peace,  and  stolen  articles  were  restored  and  thieves  given  up 
to  punishment. 

The  English  thus  lived  in  peace  for  some  time,  and  prospered 
as  never  before.  Twenty  new  houses  were  built,  the  church  was 
repaired,  a  block-house  built  on  the  isthmus  of  Jamestown  and  on 
a  neighboring  island,  and  thirty  or  forty  acres  of  ground  put  under 
cultivation.  In  the  midst  of  their  labors,  they  found  that  of  their 
stock  of  corn,  fully  one-half  had  rotted,  and  the  remainder  had 
been  almost  consumed  by  the  rats,  which  had  been  left  by  the 
ship,  and  had  increased  very  fast ;  so  that  they  were  obliged  to 
leave  everything  else  and  devote  their  energies  to  getting  food. 
The  Indians  brought  in  plenty  of  venison  and  wild-fowl,  and 
there  were  many  oysters  and  fish  in  the  river,  so  that  there  was 
no  danger  of  starvation ;  Powhatan,  too,  had  spared  them  half  of 
his  whole  stock  of  corn.  It  was  some  trouble  to  obtain  the  food, 
and  many  of  the  colonists  were  intolerably  lazy.  These  would 
have  sold  tools  and  arms,  even  their  houses  and  cannon,  sooner 
than  dredge  for  oysters.  A  plot  to  leave  the  country,  and  simi- 
lar mutinous  proceedings,  were  for  a  time  overlooked ;  but  Smith 
detected  and  severely  punished  the  ringleader,  and  sharply  re- 
primanded the  others.  He  told  them  that  they  must  work  not 
only  for  themselves,  but  for  the  sick  ;  and  threatened  that  who- 
ever was  lax  in  his  work  should  be  banished  until  he  should 


102  CAPTAIN   JOHN    SMITH. 

either  alter  his  conduct  or  starve.  Of  course  some  declared  this 
course  cruel  and  tyrannical,  but  none  dared  to  disobey.  Some 
were  billeted  upon  the  Indians,  where  they  were  so  well  treated 
that  others  invited  themselves  to  do  the  same ;  but  the  Indians, 
fearful  of  displeasing  Captain  Smith,  sent  them  back. 

A  vessel  commanded  by  Captain  Argall  arrived  in  the  spring 
of  1609,  with  letters  from  the  council  in  England.  The  course 
of  the  president  was  severely  blamed  by  these  gentlemen,  who 
had  expected  the  colony  to  make  them  suddenly  and  enormously 
rich.  This  desired  end  was  to  be  obtained  by  the  discovery  of  a 
short  and  easy  passage  to  the  South  Sea,  or  by  working  the  vast 
mines  which  they  were  convinced  must  be  under  Virginian  soil, 
since  Peru  and  Mexico  had  so  rewarded  the  Spaniards.  The 
failure  of  the  colonists  was  probably  due  to  Smith's  harsh  treat- 
ment of  the  Indians,  which  had  prevented  them  from  giving  the 
information  they  must  possess.  Smith,  in  all  his  communica- 
tions addressed  to  the  council,  had  endeavored  to  dispel  the 
illusions  under  which  they  labored  ;  he  had  tried  to  make. them 
believe  his  story  of  the  difficulties  with  which  he  must  contend, 
and  that  they  could  not  soon  expect  to  derive  any  income  from 
Virginia.  His  efforts  were  futile,  however,  as  shown  by  these 
letters. 

A  new  charter  was  granted,  and  in  May,  1609,  a  fleet  of  nine 
vessels,  with  five  hundred  men,  women  and  children,  set  sail  for 
Virginia.  Of  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  who  held  high  posi- 
tions in  the  new  government,  the  vice-admiral,  Captain  Newport, 
was  the  only  one  who  had  ever  been  in  Virginia.  Two  of  the 
vessels  were  wrecked  on  the  passage,  but  the  other  seven  arrived 
safely.  But  the  three  men  to  whom  authority  was  given  to 
supplant  the  existing  government  at  Jamestown,  of  whom  New- 
port was  one,  had  been  lost  at  sea ;  and  while  there  was  no  one 
whom  they  would  recognize  as  their  governor,  they  would  not 
submit  themselves  to  Smith,  against  whom  they  were  prejudiced 
by  three  mutineers,  Sicklemore,  Archer  and  Martin,  whom  he 
formerly  had  banished.  The  whole  community  was  in  such  confu- 
sion that  the  more  sensible  and  judicious  men  entreated  Smith  to 
enforce  his  authority,  and  save  them  from  destruction.  His 
easiest  course  would  have  been  to  return  to  England,  but  he  was 
too  unselfishly  devoted  to  the  best  interests  of  the  colony  to  do 
that,  and  he  resolutely  maintained  his  authority  over  the  unruly 
flock,  It  was  thought  best  to  divide  their  numbers,  and  two 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 


103 


other  settlements  were  made,  each  being  provided  with  food 
from  the  general  store.  These,  however,  were  unfortunate,  and 
the  men  placed  there  soon  returned  to  Jamestown. 

Returning  home  after  an  attempt  to  procure  safety  from  the 
Indians  for  one  of  these  branch  colonies,  as  he  lay  asleep  in  a 
boat,  a  bag  of  gunpowder  near  by  exploded,  tearing  and  burn- 
ing his  flesh  in  a  dreadful  manner.  Katcliffe  (alias  Sicklemore), 
Archer  and  some  others  had  again  become  mutinous,  and  the 
time  for  their  trial  was  drawing  near.  "  Conscience  doth  make 
cowards  of  us  all,"  and  afraid  of  the  result  of  such  trial,  they 
formed  a  plot  to  murder  Smith  in  his  bed,  knowing  that  no  one 
else  could  hold  them  in 
check.  At  the  last  mo- 
ment, the  conspirator 
who  was  to  execute  the 
plot  felt  his  heart  fail 
him,  and  he  could  not  fire. 
They  next  thought  that 
by  gaining  possession  of 
the  government  they 
could  escape  punishment, 
and  tried  to  do  so.  Fev- 
ered and  tormented  by; 
his  wounds,  Capt.  Smith8 
lost  patience  in  this  con- 
tinual struggle  with  the 
ingratitude  of  men  whom 
he  would  have  benefited, 
and  determined  to  go  to 
England;  although  his 
friends  wished  to  avenge 
his  injuries  by  the  death  of  the  conspirators,  he  would  not 
plunge  the  colony  into  civil  war  to  preserve  his  own  dignity. 
His  wounds,  too,  grew  very  dangerous,  for  lack  of  such  surgical 
aid  as  could  be  obtained  only  in  the  old  country ;  and  he  des- 
paired of  recovering,  if  he  remained  in  Virginia.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  autumn  of  1609,  then,  he  left  Jamestown,  never  to  re- 
turn to  it  again. 

Here,  for  five  years,  the  record  is  a  blank.  We  know  that  he 
was  coldly  received  in  England  ;  but  that  is  nothing  new ;  the 
company  had  been  for  a  long  time  displeased  at  his  conduct,  both 


POCAHONTAS. 


104  CAWAIN  JOHN   SMIftf. 

in  treating  the  Indians  as  he  did,  and  in  so  stubbornly  refusing 
to  find  a  gold  mine.  He  probably  retired  to  his  estate  after  the 
cure  of  his  wounds,  remaining  there  in  the  quiet  life  which  he 
had  once  sought  in  his  youth.  But  he  was  not  destined  to  end 
his  days  in  the  obscurity  of  an  English  country  house. 

In  1614  an  expedition  of  two  ships  was  fitted  out  by  four  Lon- 
don merchants  and  himself,  for  the  purposes  of  trade  and  explor- 
ation in  North  Virginia,  as  New  England  was  then  called.  The 
idea  of  settlement  on  these  inhospitable  shores  had  been  aban- 
doned by  the  English  for  the  present,  but  the  fisheries  and  the 
fur-trade  were  not  relinquished,  vessels  being  sent  thither  annu- 
ally. The  enterprise  was  in  the  highest  degree  successful.  Seven 
months  (  according  to  one  authority  six  )  sufficed  for  the  whole 
voyage ;  the*  sailors  did  not  suffer  from  sickness  ;  and  the  freights 
were  profitable.  While  the  sailors  were  busy  with  their  hooks 
and  lines,  Smith  examined  the  shores  from  the  Penobscot  to  Cape 
Cod  and  prepared  a  map  of  the  coast,  naming  the  country  New 
England.  Yet  the  voyage  was  not  free  from  crime.  After  Smith 
had  sailed  for  England,  Thomas  Hunt,  the  commander  of  the 
second  ship,  kidnapped  a  large  party  of  Indians,  and  setting  sail 
for  Spain,  sold  them  into  slavery,  He  was  indignantly  dismiss- 
ed from  his  office  by  his  employers  when  they  heard  of  his  guilt ; 
but  this  could  not  prevent  the  evil  consequences  of  the  mischief 
he  had  done.  The  outrage  sank  deep  into  the  hearts  of  the  In- 
dians, and  in  after  years  they  visited  their  vengeance  upon  in- 
nocent men  belonging  to  the  same  race  as  did  he  who  had  so 
cruelly  wronged  them. 

Putting  into  the  port  of  Plymouth  on  his  return  to  England, 
Smith  related  his  adventures  to  some  friends  whom  he  thought 
"  interested  in  the  dead  patent  for  this  unregarded  country,"  and 
the  Plymouth  Company,  by  flattering  hopes  and  great  promises, 
induced  him  to  serve  them.  The  South  Virginia  Company,  his 
old  employers,  had  learned  his  value  from  the  state  of  their  col- 
ony after  he  left  it,  and  made  him  overtures  which  his  previous 
engagement  to  the  rival  association  obliged  him  to  decline.  He 
endeavored  to  persuade  the  two  companies  to  unite  their  forces, 
a  course  which  had  many  advantages,  but  the  rivalry  existing 
between  them  would  not  admit  of  this  sensible  plan. 

Four  ships  were  to  have  been  furnished  him,  but  the  poor  suc- 
cess of  a  previous  expedition,  which  had  suffered  from  the  Indians 
so  enraged  at  Hunt,  had  cooled  the  enthusiasm  of  the  company ; 


CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH.  105 

and  when,  early  in  January,  1615,  he  reached  Plymouth,  it  re- 
quired his  utmost  exertions,  seconded  by  the  influence  of  others, 
to  obtain  two  ships.  "With  one  vessel  of  two  hundred  tons,  and 
one  of  only  fifty,  in  which  there  were,  besides  seamen,  sixteen 
men  destined  to  remain  as  settlers,  he  set  sail  from  Plymouth 
the  following  March.  One  hundred  and  twenty  leagues  out, 
they  encountered  such  a  violent  storm  that  Capt.  Smith's  vessel 
was  dismasted  and  obliged  to  return  to  Plymouth. 

From  this  port  he  again  set  out  late  in  June,  in  a  small  bark 
of  sixty  tons,  manned  by  thirty  sailors,  and  carrying  the  same 
sixteen  settlers  who  had  been  with  him  before.  Misfortune 
seemed  to  follow  them,  for  they  had  not  gone  far  before  they  fell 
in  with  an  English  pirate.  The  crew  insisted  upon  surrendering 
without  resistance,  but  although  he  had  only  four  guns  to  the  pi- 
rate's thirty-six,  Smith  would  not  do  it.  The  fears  of  the  crew 
were  allayed  in  a  strange  manner,  for  their  captain,  speaking 
with  the  pirate,  found  that  the  commander  and  some  of  the  crew 
had  been  old  comrades  of  his  in  the  Turkish  campaigns,  and  had 
recently  escaped  from  slavery  at  Tunis,  stealing  the  ship.  They 
were  without  provisions  and  had  mutinied,  and  offered  to  put 
Captain  Smith  in  command,  or  to  carry  him  wherever  he  wanted 
to  go ;  but  both  offers  were  declined,  and  the  little  vessel  sailed 
on,  only  to  meet  with  two  French  pirates  near  Fayal.  Again 
the  crew  would  have  had  him  surrender ;  but,  telling  them  that 
he  would  rather  blow  up  the  ship,  he  succeeded  in  escaping  after 
a  running  fight. 

He  had  not  left  the  neighborhood  of  the  Azores  when  he  was 
chased  and  overtaken  by  four  French  men-of-war,  who  had 
orders  from  their  sovereign  to  seize  pirates  of  all  nations.  At 
the  command  of  the  admiral,  Captain  Smith  showed  his  commis- 
sion under  the  great  seal,  to  prove  that  he  was  not  a  pirate,  and 
ought,  of  course,  to  have  been  allowed  to  go  on  his  way,  as 
England  and  France  were  at  peace;  but  the  Frenchman 
detained  him  prisoner,  plundered  his  vessel  and  manned  it  with 
Frenchmen,  distributing  the  English  sailors  and  settlers  among 
the  ships  of  his  own  fleet.  After  a  few  days,  he  gave  the  Eng- 
lishmen their  vessel  again,  together  with  the  greater  part  of 
their  provisions. 

Captain  Smith  now  made  preparations  for  continuing  the  voy- 
age, although  many  of  the  crew,  disheartened  by  their  bad  luck, 
wished  to  go  back  to  Plymouth ;  when  one  day,  before  they  had 


106  CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH. 

parted  from  the  French  fleet,  the  admiral  sent  for  him  to  come 
aboard  the  flagship.  He  went,  alone.  While  he  was  there,  the 
French  ship,  which  was  really  no  better  than  a  pirate,  spread  her 
sails  and  gave  chase  to  a  strange  vessel,  and  was  followed  by  her 
consorts.  The  English  crew  were  now  able  to  do  as  they  had  so 
long  wished,  and  they  turned  the  ship's  course  homeward. 
The  sixteen  landsmen,  however,  knew  nothing  of  this  until  they 
sailed  into  the  harbor  of  Plymouth. 

This  abduction  of  Captain  Smith  was  doubtless  caused  by  the 
calumnies  of  his  own  crew,  who  were  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him, 
that  they  might  return  home.  The  admiral's  ship,  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  fleet  by  a  storm,  continued  her  piratical 
course  alone.  "When  an  English  ship  was  attacked,  Smith  was 
confined  in  the  hold,  but  was  obliged  to  fight  with  them  in  any 
engagement  with  Spanish  vessels.  Having  spent  the  summer  in 
this  way,  they  carried  him  to  Eochelle ;  where  they  detained  him  a 
prisoner  on  board  a  vessel  in  the  harbor,  although  they  had 
promised  to  give  him  a  share  in  their  prizes  to  remunerate  him 
for  his  losses. 

In  order  to  avoid  sharing  with  him,  they  accused  him  of  burn- 
ing Port  Royal  in  1613,  and  endeavored  to  compel  him  to  give 
them  a  discharge  in  full  before  the  proper  authority,  threatening 
to  imprison  him  if  he  refused.  While  he  was  considering  this,  an 
opportunity  of  escape  offered  itself.  A  violent  storm  arose.  In 
the  midst  of  it,  while  it  was  dark,  Captain  Smith  threw  himself 
into  a  small  boat,  and  with  a  half  pike  for  an  oar,  pushed  out  to 
sea.  The  storm  was  so  violent  that  the  coast  was  strewn  with 
wrecks.  Twelve  hours  he  passed  in  the  frail  boat,  expecting  every 
moment  to  be  swallowed  up  by  the  waves  ;  till  by  the  returning 
tide  he  was  thrown  upon  a  marshy  island,  where,  wet,  half-frozen, 
tired  and  hungry,  he  was  found  by  some  fowlers  and  taken  back 
to  Rochelle.  Landing  here,  he  lodged  a  complaint  against  the 
admiral  wTho  had  kept  him  prisoner,  and  whose  ship  had  been 
wrecked  in  the  late  storm.  This  action  seems  to  have  led  to  no 
result  but  the  granting  of  a  certificate  of  the  truth  of  his  state- 
ment, his  story  having  been  confirmed  by  some  sailors  that  es- 
caped from  the  wreck  of  the  French  vessel.  But  he  found  kind 
friends  who  assisted  him  in  getting  passage  to  England. 

Having  published  a  description  of  New  England,  written  dur- 
ing his  captivity,  and  a  map  of  the  same  section  made  during  his 
first  voyage  thither,  he  spent  many  months  of  the  succeeding 


CAPTAIN  JOHN   SMITH. 


107 


year  (1616)  in  traveling  about  England,  distributing  copies  of  his 
book,  and  endeavoring  to  excite  the  enthusiasm,  of  the  people. 
He  appealed  to  the  desires  and  passions  of  men,  promising  vast 
dominions  to  the  noblemen,  mercantile  profits  to  the  speculators, 
and  a  competence  to  men  of  small  means.  But  the  failure  of  many 
late  expeditions  had  put  people  on  their  guard  about  the  New 
World,  and  his  only  reward  was  the  title  of  "  Admiral  of  JSTew 
England,"  conferred  upon  him  by  the  Plymouth  Company. 
It  was  in  the  summer  of  this  same  year  that  Pocahontas,  now 


POCAHONTAS  PKESENTED  AT  COUKT. 

the  wife  of  John  Rolfe,  visited  England,  and  was  received  with 
great  ceremony  and  presented  at  court.  The  Indians  had  been 
told  that  Smith  was  dead,  but  Powhatan,  knowing  that  his  "  coun- 
trymen will  lie  much,"  commanded  them  to  find  out  the  truth. 
She  Desired  to  be  allowed  to  call  Smith  "  father/'  as  she  had  been 
accustomed  to  do  in  Virginia,  but  he  "  durst  not,  because  she  was 
a  king's  daughter." 

When  Smith  had  had  his  interview  with  Pocahontas,  he  had 
been,  according  to  his  own  words,  on  the  eve  of  sailing  to  New 
England ;  but  for  some  reason,  did  not  go.  Later,  he  made  an- 


101 


CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH. 


other  effort  to  go  to  the  new  country  for  which  he  had  done  so 
much. 

In  March,  1622,  the  Indians,  no  longer  restrained  by  the  in- 
fluence of  Pocahontas,  attacked  the  settlement  at  Jamestown,  and 
massacred  thr^ee  hundred  and  forty-seven  Englishmen.  The  news 
created  great  excitement  in  the  mother  country,  and  Capt.  Smith, 
deeply  affected  by  this  misfortune  of  the  colony  in  which  he  took 
so  keen  an  interest,  was  very  anxious  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  Yir- 


DESTRUCTION  OF  A  VIRGINIA  SETTLEMENT. 

ginia  in  person,  to  avenge  the  outrage.  The  company  professed 
itself  too  much  impoverished,  however,  to  bear  the  expense  of 
such  an  expedition;  and  their  plan,  which  was  to  remunerate  him 
and  his  soldiers  out  of  the  pillage,  was  rejected  by  him  with  the 
contemptuous  statement  that  he  would  not  give  twenty  pounds 
for  all  the  pillage  that  could  be  obtained  from  the  savages  in 
twenty  years. 

"With  this,  he  retires  from  the  history  of  the  colonies,  if  we  exv 
cept  his  answers  to  commissioners  appointed  shortly  before  the 


CAPTAIN   JOHN 


100 


charter  of  Virginia  was  abrogated,  to  inquire  into  the  abuses  of 
authority  by  the  company.  His  death  occurred  in  London,  in 
1631,  in  the  fifty-second  year  of  his  age.  We  could  relate  little 
of  his  early  history  that  is  not  to  be  doubted;  performing  his 
work  at  Jamestown,  when  his  connection  with  the  American  col- 
onies ceased  he  sank  into  obscurity  again,  until  death. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


CAPTAIN"  MILES  STANDISH. 

"He  was  a  gentleman  "born,  could  trace  his  pedigree  plainly, 
Back  to  Hugh  Standish,  of  Duxbury  Hall,  in  Lancashire,  England, 
*  •*  #  *  * 

Heir  unto  vast  estates  of  which  he  was  basely  defrauded." 

SUCH  are  the  words  which  Longfellow  ascribes  to  John 
Alden,  the  friend  of  Miles  Standish ;  not  poetic  license  to 
grace  the  picture  of  a  fictitious  hero,  but  the  truth  about  a  real 
man.  The  captain  of  Plymouth  was  indeed  of  good  descent,  as 
English  records  attest ;  and  more  than  once  his  descendants  in 
America  have  made  efforts  to  regain  possession  of  the  "  vast  es- 
tates." But  he  left  ancestral  honors  behind  him  when  he  sailed 
away  from  England  ;  it  is  chiefly  with  the  name  which  he  made 
for  himself  in  this  country  that  we  are  concerned. 

He  was  born  at  the  family  seat,  Duxbury  Hall,  in  Lancashire, 
in  the  year  1584.  Educated  as  a  soldier,  he  was  .commissioned 
a  lieutenant  at  an  early  age,  as  he  held  this  rank  in  ."Queen  Eliza- 
beth's forces,"  and  was  but  nineteen  when  her  death  left  the 
kingdom  to  James  I.  For  some  time  he  was  in  a  regiment  which 
garrisoned  a  town  in  the  Netherlands,  where  the  struggle  for 
independence  of  Spain  was  going  on;  but  peace  having  been  de- 
clared, England  withdrew  the  troops  which  she  had  sent  to  aid 
the  patriots.  Standish,  however,  did  not  return  with  his  regi- 
ment, but  remained  in  Leyden  with  a  little  colony  of  his  country- 
men who  had  fled  from  religious  persecution  in  their  native  land. 

Theirs  was  a  pitiful  story.  Regarding  the  practices  of  the  Es- 
tablished Church  as  leading  back  to  error,  they  had  striven  to 
use  the  same  simplicity  in  their  public  worship  for  which,  later, 
the  "Weslcys  strove  ;  but  the  bigotry  of  the  queen  gave  no  latitude; 
all  must  conform  to  the  established  ritual.  Determining  to  leave 
the  rural  homes  which  they  loved  so  dearly,  to  seek  religious  liber- 
ty in  a  country  where  the  very  language  would  be  strange;  where, 
simple  husbandmen  as  they  were,  they  must  make  their  living 


CAPTAIN  MILES   STANDISH.  Ill 

in  the  intricacies  of  trade;  they  were  betrayed  by  the  commander 
of  the  vessel  in  which  they  were  to  sail,  and  taken  back  to  stripes 
and  imprisonment.  A  second  effort  was  hardly  more  successful,  for 
as  they  were  embarking,  the  Dutch  captain  was  so  much  alarmed 
by  the  approach  of  a  body  of  soldiery,  that  he  sailed  off,  bearing 
half  of  the  oppressed  people  with  him,  while  "half  wept  upon  the 
shore."  Those  left  behind  were  exposed  to  the  most  cruel  treat- 
ment from  the  soldiery ;  hurried  from  one  magistrate  to  another, 
no  one  could  find  a  fitting  punishment  for  innocence,  and  at  last 
they  were  released.  This  did  not  mean  happiness,  however.  Of 
their  sufferings,  penniless,  friendless,  homeless,  we  have  no  writ- 
ten record;  some  doubtless  perished  of  exposure,  some  found 
^charitable  friends  who  enabled  them  to  reach  Amsterdam.  Hith- 
er had  come  fugitive  Protestants  from  all  parts  of  Europe,  and  it 
was  a  place  renowned  for  liberality  of  ideas.  "Whether  the  farm- 
ers from  England  found  it  impossible  to  make  a  living  in  this  busy 
commercial  city,  or  whether  it  was  from  some  other  cause,  they 
soon  removed  to  Leyden. 

But  they  were  not  content  to  remain  "  strangers  in  a  strange 
land/'  where  the  very  language  was  unfamiliar  to  their  ears ; 
and  they  determined,  before  very  many  years  had  elapsed,  to 
settle  in  "Virginia,"  if  they  could  obtain  permission  to  do  so.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  this  name,  now  restricted  to  two  states, 
was  then  applied  to  all  American  territory  which  had  been  under 
the  dominion,  nominally,  of  the  Virgin  Queen,  Elizabeth.  The 
only  permission  which  they  could  obtain  was  that  King  James  I 
would  "  connive  at  them,  and  not  molest  them,  providing  they 
carried  themselves  peaceably." 

When  Captain  Standish  first  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  Pilgrims 
is  not  definitely  known.  The  independence  of  the  Dutch  Repub- 
lic had  been  virtually  acknowledged  in  1609,  and  the  English 
troops  must  have  been  withdrawn  soon  afterwards ;  so  that  it 
could  not  have  been  very  long  after  this  time  that  he  became  in- 
terested in  the  little  community.  Nor  do  we  know  why  he  at- 
tached himself  to  them;  certainly  it  could  not  have  been  for  re- 
ligious reasons,  or  he  would  have  become  a  member  of  the  church ; 
it  may  have  been  the  love  of  adventure,  or  perhaps  the  instinct 
of  a  chivalrous  nature  to  succor  the  distressed.  Certain  it  is 
that  his  bravery  and  sagacity  in  dealing  with  the  Indians  contri- 
buted greatly  to  the  success  of  their  undertaking. 

The  story  of  their  setting  sail  from  Delft,  being  driven  back  to 


112  CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH. 

Plymouth  by  the  unseaworthiness  of  one  of  their  two  vessels,  and 
setting  out  again  with  the  one  remaining  to  them,  is  tpo  well 
known  to  require  repetition  here.  He  did  not  assume  importance 
in  the  affairs  which  he  knew  others  could  manage  better  than  he 
could,  and  was  content  to  wait  for  his  active  service  until  they 
should  have  arrived  in  the  country  which  Capt.  John  Smith  had 
already  named  New  England.  Let  us,  then,  leave  to  historians 
of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  the  account  of  .the  Mayflower's  final  de- 
parture on  the  sixth  of  September,  1820,  and  the  tedious  voyage 
of  sixty-four  days.  Nor  will  we  describe  their  efforts  to  reach 
the  mouth  of  the  Hudson,  where  they  had  desired  to  land. 

So  much  were  they  tossed  about  by  storms  that  it  was  with  a 
feeling  of  relief  that  they  cast  anchor  in  a  safe  harbor  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  Cape  Cod,  on  the  morning  of  the  eleventh  of  Novem- 
ber. Just  before  entering  this  harbor,  they  had  drawn  up  the 
brief  compact  which  bound  them  to  each  other,  and  had  chosen 
John  Carver  as  governor  and  Miles  Standish  as  military  leader. 
Under  the  latter,  a  party  of  sixteen  men  was  sent  on  shore  to 
make  a  short  exploring  tour,  to  return,  of  course,  that  night, 
since  the  next  day  was  Sunday.  Their  report  was  little  calcu- 
lated to  reassure  those  who  had  remained ;  a  tongue  of  barren 
land,  about  a  mile  in  breadth,  uninhabited,  although  covered  with 
a  dense  forest  of  evergreens  and  dwarf  oaks,  without  fresh  wa- 
ter— such  was  their  first  knowledge  of  America. 

The  Mayflower  had  only  been  chartered  for  the  voyage,  and 
their  authority  over  the  vessel  was  hence  more  limited  than  if 
she  had  been  their  own  property.  This  led  to  some  disadvanta- 
ges to  which  less  determined  men  might  have  succumbed ;  but 
when  the  captain  refused  to  leave  the  safe  harbor  in  which  he 
was  lying,  and  peril  his  vessel  by  coasting  about  in  these  unknown 
seas,  the  sturdy  colonists  went  to  work  to  prepare  for  service  a 
large  shallop  which  they  had  brought  with  them.  This  had  been 
but  partially  put  together  in  England,  and  the  work  of  finishing 
it,  and  of  repairing  the  injuries  it  had  received  during  the  voy- 
age, consumed  sixteen  or  seventeen  days.  But  the  impatient 
temper  of  Captain  Standish  could  not  endure  this  continued  in- 
action, and  on  the  following  Wednesday  he  set  out,  with  a  party 
of  fifteen  men,  upon  a  more  extended  tour  than  the  first  had 
been.  The  danger  of  this  journey  was  so  well  known  that  it 
"was  rather  permitted  than  approved,"  by  the  elder  men  who 
remained  at  work  in  the  ship.  Besides  these  sixteen  soldiers, 


CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH.  113 

who  had  each  his  musket,  sword  and  corselet,  William  Bradford, 
Stephen  Hopkins  and  Edward  Tilley  went  with  them  "  for  coun- 
sel and  advice." 

Following  the  eoast  for  about  a  mile,  they  saw  six  or  seven 
Indians  approaching  them,  accompanied  by  a  dog.  The  very 
sight  of  the  white  men  awakened  such  terror  in  the  minds  of  the 
savages  that  they  turned  and  fled  into  the  woods.  The  English- 
men pursued,  hoping  to  be  able  to  make  friends  with  them ;  but 
their  motives  were  »not  appreciated  by  the  natives,  who  had  suf- 
fered, perhaps,  at  the  hands  of  other  white  men.  Night  came 
on  while  they  were  still  engaged  in  the  bootless  chase,  and  they 
encamped  at  a  point  about  ten  miles  from  the  vessel,  continuing 
the  pursuit  the  next  day.  But  this  Thursday  was  filled  with  dis- 
coveries. A  spring  of  fresh  water,  the  first  that  they  had  seen,  was 
found  bubbling  up  from  the  earth  in  a  deep  valley ;  farther  on 
was  a  small  fresh  water  lake.  They  found  several  mounds  of 
curious  appearance,  and  dug  into  them ;  but  coming  upon  decay- 
ing bows  and  arrows  and  similar  articles,  they  reverently  re- 
placed the  earth  that  formed  the  only  monument  to  some  depart- 
ed chief.  A  mound  unlike  these  was  discovered  later,  and  found 
to  be  a  store-house.  Here  they  saw,  for  the  first  time,  that 
"  blessing  more  precious  than  gold,"  Indian  corn  ;  the  sign  of  that 
fertility  in  which  the  true  wealth  of  the  New  "World  consists. 
They  were  not  disposed  to  rob  the  natives  whose  foresight  had 
placed  this  food  here,  but  their  stock  of  provisions  was  running 
low,  and  they  took  the  corn,  resolving  to  repay  the  owners  when- 
ever they  should  be  found. 

They  had  been  directed  not  to  remain  away  more  than  two 
days,  so  that  they  must  now  bend  their  steps  toward  the  ship. 
Losing  their  way  in  the  woods,  their  low  spirits  yielded  to 
laughter  when  Mr.  Bradford  was  unceremoniously  swung  up  into 
the  air  while  examining  an  ingeniously  contrived  deer-trap. 
Friday  afternoon,  with  clothes  torn  by  the  branches  in  the  thick 
woods,  and  feet  blistered  by  the  long  tramp,  they  reached  the 
ship  again,  having  found  no  place  suitable  for  the  location  of 
the  colony. 

A  third  and  longer  expedition  was  made,  this  time  partly  by 
water,  as  the  shallop  was  now  prepared,  but  with  no  better  suc- 
cess than  the  others.  Only  one  man,  the  second  mate  of  the 
Mayflower,  had  been  in  the  country  before,  and  he  described  to 
them  the  location  of  a  large  navigable  river  with  a  good  harbor, 


114  CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 

about  twenty-five  miles  due  west  of  Cape  Cod.  To  this  point, 
then,  they  resolved  to  go.  It  was  necessary  for  them  to  find 
very  soon  a  place  of  settlement,  as  the  captain  of  the  vessel  grew 
very  impatient  and  threatened  to  set  sail  for  England,  leaving 
them  where  they  were.  Ten  picked  men,  among  whom  the  best 
known  were  Gov.  Carver,  Mr.  Bradford  and  Captain  Standish, 
set  out  in  the  shallop  in  the  afternoon  of  the  sixth  of  December, 
well-armed  and  provisioned,  and  determined  to  find  a  suitable 
location  if  any  such  existed.  Pushing  on,  although  the  waves  were 
unusually  high,  and  the  spray,  freezing  as  it  dashed  over  them, 
covered  them  with  an  icy  armor,  they  entered  late  in  the  even- 
ing a  small,  shallow  cave.  Twelve  Indians,  who  were  on  the 
beach,  fled  at  their  approach. 

It  was  deemed  necessary  to  keep  guard  over  their  camp  at 
night,  as  the  temper  of  the  Indians  had  not  been  tried.  The  sec- 
ond night  this  sentinel  called  "  Arm  !  arm  !  "  but  the  "  hideous 
and  great  cry "  they  heard  ceased  at  the  sound  of  a  couple  of 
musket  shots,  and  they  concluded  that  it  was  a  company  of 
wolves.  The  next  morning,  after  prayers,  but  before  breakfast, 
they  heard  voices  like  those  of  the  night,  and  a  shower  of  ar- 
rows fell  in  the  camp.  Captain  Standish  was  the  first  to  seize 
his  flint-lock  and  fire,  and  his  shot  was  quickly  followed  by  a 
second.  Others  were  ready,  but  he  gave  orders  not  to  shoot  at 
random,  but  to  wait  until  aim  could  be  taken.  The  yells  of  the 
Indians  indicated  that  they  had  a  large  force,  and  the  whites 
feared  that  they  might,  by  a  sudden  sally,  possess  themselves  of 
the  shallop  and  cut  off  all  chances  of  retreat.  Captain  Standish, 
to  prevent  this,  divided  his  force,  five  being  appointed  to  defend 
their  barricaded  camp,  where  were  their  arms  and  provisions, 
and  five  to  protect  the  vessel. 

The  thick  winter  clothes  and  the  mail  of  the  Englishmen  form- 
ed a  sufficient  protection,  against  the  arrows,  though  they  were 
thrown  with  great  force,  and  being  tipped  with  flint  and  bone, 
and  sometimes  with  brass  from  a  fishing-vessel,  could  inflict  very 
bad  wounds.  Their  flight,  however,  could  be  seen,  as  they  did 
not  come  with  the  rapidity  of  bullets,  and  the  whites  could  often 
dodge  what  might  otherwise  have  been  deadly  missiles.  One  In- 
dian of  remarkable  stature,  apparently  the  leader  of  the  whole 
band,  was  noticed  for  the  accuracy  of  his  aim  and  the  rapidity 
with  which  he  shot.  Sheltered  by  a  large  tree,  his  voice  could 
be  heard  above  the  din  of  the  conflict,  animating  his  followers  to 


MILES 


115 


still  greater  displays  of  daring  and  exertion.  The  bark  of  the 
free  was  splintered  by  musket  shots,  but  for  a  long  time  he  was 
unhurt.  Captain  Standish  was  but  watching  his  chance,  however, 
and  when  the  burly  savage  exposed  his  arm  in  the  attempt  to 
despatch  another  shaft,  he  sent  a  bullet  home.  The  Indian, 
apparently  bewildered  by  the  effect  of  the  unseen  agency  which 
had  mangled  his  arm,  stood  still  for  an  instant;  then,  uttering  a 
dismal  cry,  disappeared  in  the  forest,  followed  by  his  compan- 
ions. Hardly  had  the  echoes  of  the  last  shot  died  away  before 
the  Indians  were  gone,  and  the  silence  of  the  woods  and  the 
murmur  of  the  sea  succeeded  the  wild  clamor  of  an  Indian  fight. 
Eeturning  to  their  camp,  the  Pilgrims  gave  thanks  to  God  for 
their  deliverance,  and  gathering  up  their  arms  and  provisions, 
prepared  to  return. 

If  they  had  reached  this  point  by  a  stormy  way,  still  greater 
was  the  danger  which  beset  them  as  they  returned.  The  rain 
which  had  been  falling  had  changed  to  sleet  j  the  waves  dashed 
into  their  boat,  drenching  them  completely  and  covering 
their  clothing  and  the  ropes  with  ice.  Hour  after  hour  they 
sought  for  some  place  where  they  could  safely  make  the  attempt 
to  land,  but  could  find  none.  Their  rudder  was  swept  away  j 
their  mast  was  broken  into  three  pieces,  their  sail  being  dashed 
into  the  sea  j  twilight  was  darkening  into  night  when  the  pilot 
exclaimed,  with  a  gesture  and  tone  of  despair: 

"  The  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us  !  I  was  never  in  this  place  be- 
fore. All  that  we  can  do  is  to  run  the  boat  ashore  through  the 
breakers." 

Dazed  by  the  words  of  the  man  in  whose  skill  they  had  trusted, 
who  had  cheered  them  by  telling,  from  time  to  time,  of  safe  har- 
bors near  at  hand,  they  were  about  to  obey  his  insane  counsel 
and  rush  to  certain  death,  when,  above  the  roar  of  the  wind,  the 
surging  of  the  waves  and  the  pitiless  hissing  of  the  sleet,  there 
rang  out,  clear  and  sharp  as  the  crack  of  a  musket,  the  tones  of 
their  captain : 

"  If  ye  be  men,  seize  your  oars,  or  we  are  all  cast  away!" 

Plying  the  oars  vigorously,  as  if  incited  to  new  eiforts  by  this 
appeal  to  their  manhood,  they  succeeded  in  reaching  a  compara- 
tively quiet  inlet,  dimly  discerned  from  the  boat  through  the 
spray  and  the  mist  and  the  gathering  darkness.  Having  learned 
from  experience  that  the  woods  might  be  full  of  savages,  they 
at  first  decided  to  pass  the  night  in  the  boat ;  but  their  sufferings 
8 


lifl 


CAI»TAltf   MILES 


becoming  unendurable,  they  thought  more  lightly  of  the  danger 
of  attack,  and  kindled  a  fire  on  shore.  Here  they  were  in  less 
danger  than  they  had  thought,  for  when  morning  dawned,  bitter- 
ly cold,  but  bright  and  sunshiny,  they  found  they  were  on  a  small 
island.  Here,  then,  they  remained  all  the  next  day,  drying 
their  clothes,  resting,  and  otherwise  preparing  for  the  observance 
of  the  Sabbath  to-morrow.  Time  was  precious,  the  season  was 
advancing;  their  companions  were  in  suspense  as  to  their  fate; 
but  the  Sabbath  was  observed  as  conscientiously  as  if  in  England. 
Early  Monday  morning  they  continued  their  voyage,  search- 
ing for  the  navig- 
able river  which 
had  been  described 
to  them,  but  which 
they  failed  to  find. 
Landing,  they  dis- 
covered one  or  two 
small  streams  of 
pure  water,  and 
saw  several  fields 
which  the  Indians 
had  evidently  cul- 
tivated in  the  past, 
but  for  some  cause 
abandoned.  Al- 
though it  was  not 
the  Land  of  Prom- 
ise which  they  had 
expected  when 
they  sailed  from 
England,  it  was  far 
superior  to  any- 
thing yet  found ; 
and  they  pushed 
across  the  bay  to 
acquaint  their  com- 
panions with  the 
results. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  tell  again  what  poet  and  historian  alike 
have  delighted  to  record — the  landing  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers, 
December  22.  1620.  on  the  only  rock  large  enough  for  the  pur- 


LAXDING   OF   THE   PILGRIMS. 


CAPTAftf  MtLfiS  6TAND1SH.  117 

pose  to  be  found  on  the  sandy  coast.  Nor  need  we  detail  the 
labor  of  erecting  the  log  houses  which  were  to  be  their  shelter 
from  the  cold  and  stormy  weather  which  so  much  impeded  their 
work.  They  had  landed  on  Friday,  and  Saturday  was  spent  in 
hewing  trees  and  dragging  them  into  the  clearing  chosen  for  the 
little  village.  Beasts  of  burden  they  had  none,  and  the  lack 
of  such  assistance  made  their  progress  very  slow.  Assembling 
in  their  partially  finished  store-house  the  next  day,  for  the  usual 
Sabbath  devotions,  they  were  startled  by  the  demoniac  yells 
which  some  of  them  had  heard  in  their  first  encounter  with  the 
natives.  The  foresight  of  the  captain  had  provided  for  such  a 
contingency,  and  when  he  gave  the  word  of  command  every 
man,  musket  in  hand,  was  at  his  post.  Sheltered  by  the  log 
walls  of  the  building,  they  could  have  repelled  almost  any  num- 
of  Indians,  but  the  wary  savages  did  not  wait  to  prove  this. 
They  had  already  learned  the  efficacy  of  the  muskets,  and  when 
they  saw  the  settlers  were  armed  and  ready  for  an  attack, 
they  retreated  rapidly  into  the  woods  without  having  showed 
themselves. 

The  next  day  was  Christmas.  In  the  evening  they  heard  the 
war-whoops  of  the  same  savages,  who  again  retreated  without 
further  molesting  them.  Their  work  of  building  was  continued 
through  the  week — hard  labor  for  men,  one-half  of  whom  were 
already  wasting  away  with  consumption  and  lung-fevers,  con- 
tracted in  their  exposure  to  the  extraordinarily  cold  winter. 
Notwithstanding  the  pressing  need  of  shelter,  the  necessity  for 
means  of  defense  was  still  greater,  and  all  hands  set  to  work  to 
complete  the  fort  crowning  Burial  Hill,  and  commanding  all  the 
approaches  to  the  chosen  site  of  the  village. 

On  the  fourth  of  January,  Captain  Standish,  taking  with  him 
four  well-armed  men,  plunged  boldly  into  the  forest,  hoping  to  be 
able  to  establish  friendly  relations  with  the  Indians.  For  more 
than  a  week  the  settlers  had  watched  with  alarm  the  columns  of 
smoke  rising  in  the  morning  sky,  ancl  the  gleam  of  the  camp-fires 
illuming  the  darkness  of  the  night.  So  rapidly  had  the  number 
of  these  fires  increased  that  they  had  judged  the  natives  were 
gathering  around  them  in  great  force,  preparatory  to  an  attack 
which  should  be  fatal  to  the  colony.  Captain  Standish  wished 
to  find  the  Indians  at  their  rendezvous,  but  it  was  probable  that 
they  had  their  scouts  so  stationed  as  to  give  them  due  warning 
of  the  approach  of  the  white  men,  and  although  he  came  upon 


118  CA^AlN  MILES  SCANDISK. 

their  deserted  wigwams  and  even  the  glowing  embers  of  their 
camp-fires,  he  failed  to  find  the  objects  of  his  search. 

We  will  not  dwell  longer  on  the  difficulties  with  which  they 
had  already  contended.  Another  trouble,  greater  than  any  be- 
fore, was  to  come  upon  the  colony,  was  to  come  to  the  home  of 
the  captain.  Exposure,  privation  and  anxiety  had  done  their 
work,  and  many  of  the  colonists  died  during  the  winter.  The 
first  grave  made  was  that  of  Rose,  the  wife  of  Miles  Standish — a 
sweet  English  flower,  too  delicate  to  withstand  the  severity  of  a 
Massachusetts  winter.  Of  his  wooing  we  have  learned  nothing, 
of  his  grief  no  record  remains;  the  first  intimation  that  we  have 
of  his  marriage  is  the  statement  of  his  wife's  death,  and  we  can 
only  guess  that  the  poet  has  rightly  interpreted  his  character  in 
attributing  to  him  the  sentiment : 

"  Since  Kose  Standish  died,  my  life  has  been  weary  and  dreary." 

Hers  was  the  first  of  many  graves.  Before  the  winter  had 
wholly  passed  away,  it  could  have  been  truthfully  said  that  the 
record  of  misery  was  kept  by  the  graves  of  the  governor  and 
half  the  company.  £Tor  could  aifection  perform  its  last  offices,  in 
beautifying  the  resting-places  of  the  beloved  clay ;  lest  the  In- 
dians, seeing  how  many  graves  there  were,  should  judge  truly 
of  the  weakness  of  the  colony,  the  burials  were  secret,  and  every 
effort  made  to  do  away  with  all  traces  of  digging  up  the  earth. 

It  is  but  a  confirmation  of  the  respect  in*which  we  would  hold 
the  brave  man,  when  we  find  that  courage  does  not  make  him 
brutal ;  as,  indeed,  true  courage  never  does.  All  through  this 
terrible  winter,  when  the  living  could  scarcely  bury  the  dead, 
when  the  well  could  scarcely  tend  the  sick,  when  there  were  but 
six  or  seven  men  fit  to  bear  arms,  and  they  might  at  any  moment 
be  attacked  by  a  thousand  Indians,  side  by  side  with  the  man  of 
God  was  the  man  of  war,  transformed  for  the  time  being  into  an 
angel  of  mercy;  tending  the  sufferers  with  a  hand  as  gentle  as  a 
woman's,  performing  all  the  homely  and  necessary  services  which 
the  sick  require.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  the  hewing  of  wood  and 
drawing  of  water,  the  defense  of  the  settlers  was  not  neglected. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  February,  Captain  Standish  was  invested 
with  almost  absolute  powers  as  a  military  commander  by  the 
frightened  and  weakened  colonists ;  and  even  while  they  were  in 
consultation,  the  danger  became  more  imminent.  Two  Indians 
made  their  appearance  upon  a  small  eminence  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  off,  and  signaled  that  they  wished  to  speak  to  the  white 


CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 


119 


men.  Although  it  was  so  clearly  a  decoy  to  an  ambuscade,  Captain 
Standish,  wholly  unarmed,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Stephen  Hopkins, 
who  carried  his  gun,  advanced  to  meet  them.  Beaching  the  hill, 
Mr.  Hopkins  laid  down  his  musket,  and  in  this  entirely  defence- 
less condition  the  two  brave  men  went  on.  This  strange  conduct 
is  easily  enough  explained  when  we  remember  that  the  Puritans 
were  anxious  to  make  friends  with  the  Indians.  The  latter  had 
always  been  the  attacking  party,  and  the  whites  had  acted  only 
in  self-defense.  As  the  two  men  went  on,  the  Indians  who  had 


FIRST  CHURCH  IN  NEW  ENGLAND. 

signaled  them,  turned  and  fled  precipitately  into  the  forest, 
and  when  the  top  of  the  hill  was  reached,  not  a  savage  was  in 
sight,  although  they  could  hear  the  noise  of  a  great  many  retreat- 
ing. They  were  much  perplexed  to  know  what  was  meant  by 
such  conduct,  but  lost  no  time  in  returning  to  the  fort. 

Perceiving  that  they  could  not  hope  for  peace  from  the  Indians, 
Captain  Standish  mounted  three  small  guns  upon  the  platform 
of  the  rude  fort,  and  assigned  to  every  man  his  post  in  time  of 
attack.  It  was  now  the  middle  of  March;  the  severity  of  the 
winter  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  although  the  fighting  force. 


120  CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 

was  not  yet  increased,  the  invalids  were  beginning  to  recover. 
Captain  Standish  had  assembled  all  who  were  capable  of  bearing 
arms  to  complete  their  military  preparations,  when,  to  their  sur- 
prise, a  single  Indian  stalked  boldly  up  to  them,  unembarrassed, 
unhesitatingly.  We  may  imagine  how  each  man's  heart,  brave 
though  it  might  be,  throbbed  at  the  thought  that  perhaps  the 
hour  had  come  for  the  destruction  of  the  colony.  Despite  their 
many  endeavors  to  prepare  for  an  attack,  the  paucity  of  their 
numbers  would  not  tend  to  reassure  the  bravest.  But  the  first 
words  of  the  Indian  gave  them  hope ;  advancing  into  their 
midst,  he  said,  in  broken  English  :  "  Welcome,  Englishmen." 

They  found  that  he  was  a  chief  of  his  tribe,  living  on -the  island 
of  Monhegan,  between  the  Kennebec  and  Penobscot  rivers,  about 
twelve  miles  from  shore.  This  island  was  often  visited  by  fisher- 
men, from  whom  he  had  learned  to  speak  a  little  broken  Eng- 
lish, and  he  had  come  to  the  settlement  because-  he  supposed  the 
Mayflower  to  be  a  fishing-vessel.  He  explained  the  hostility  of 
the  tribes  around  them  by  saying  that  since  Captain  Hunt  had 
kidnapped  so  many  of  the  Indians  and  sold  them  into  slavery, 
those  who  remained  were  determined  to  avenge  the  injuries  of 
their  kindred,  and  did  not  distinguish  between  innocent  and 
guilty  white  men. 

From  this  visitor,  whose  name  was  Samoset,  they  also  learned 
that  a  short  time  after  the  Hunt  outrage,  a  Prench  ship  had  been 
wrecked  off  Cape  God,  and  the  savages  had  massacred  all  on 
board  except  three  or  four  whom  they  reserved  as  prisoners. 
One  of  these  had  threatened  them  with  the  punishment  of  an 
angry  God,  and  although  they  at  first  disbelieved  him,  a  terrible 
plague,  that  broke  out  among  them  soon  afterward,  seemed  to 
confirm  his  prediction  ;  and  they  looked  in  dread  at  the  coming 
of  the  Englishmen,  since  he  had  also  prophesied  that  their  land 
would  be  given  to  another  people.  What  wonder  that,  outraged 
by  the  white  man,  and  fearing  that  they  would  be  finally  dispos- 
sessed by  him  of  their  homes,  they  should  have  done  their  utmost 
to  drive  him  from  their  country  ? 

His  account  of  the  plague  explained  the  desertion  of  cornfields 
and  wigwams,  and  greatly  reassured  the  Pilgrims  by  informing 
them  of  the  comparatively  small  numbers  of  the  natives.  The 
white  men  listened  earnestly  to  him  during  the  whole  afternoon, 
and  the  vanity  of  the  savage  was  so  gratified  by  their  interest 
arid  attention  that  he  had  no  notion  of  leaving  them  at  night. 


CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 


121 


Captain  Standish  by  this  time  was  quite  anxious  to  get  rid  of  his 
guest,  whom  he  by  no  means  trusted  entirely ;  but  he  would  not 
go.  He  was  therefore  lodged  with  Mr.  Hopkins  for  the  night, 
and  carefully  watched. 

Before  his  departure  in  the  morning,  Samoset  was  presented 
with  a  knife,  a  bracelet  and  a  ring.  He  left,  promising  to  return 
in  a  few  days  with  some  people  of  Massasoit,  the  great  sachem  to 
whom  all  the  neighboring  tribes  were  tributary. 


•^  I  // 

- 


SAMOSET'S  VISIT. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath.  As  the  pioneers  were  assem- 
bling for  worship,  Samoset  again  entered  the  village,  this  time 
with  five  tall  Indians  at  his  heels,  carrying  furs  to  sell  to  the 
colonists.  Captain  Standish  had  already  stipulated  with  Samo- 
set that  whatever  Indians  came  into  the  town  should  leave  their 
bows  and  arrows  at  a  certain  place,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant;  and  this  arrangement  was  faithfully  observed.  Samo- 
set, to  further  prove  his  friendly  intentions,  had  also  brought 
back  some  of  the  tools  which  had  been  stolen  some  time  before. 
The  English  received  these  guests  with  every  token  of  friendly 
welcome,  but  positively  refused  to  trade  with  them  on  the  S 
bath  •  each  Indian  was  enriched  by  a  trifling  present,  and  all 
retired  but  Samoset,  who,  pretending  sickness,  remained  until 
Wednesday. 


122  CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 

The  cottages  were  now  so  far  finished  as  to  afford  protection 
from  the  weather,  and  the  Monday  and  Tuesday  of  this  week 
was  spent  in  gardening.  Samoset,  who  on  Wednesday  was  sent 
into  the  forest  to  see  why  the  Indians  did  not  return,  according 
to  agreement,  had  just  disappeared  in  the  woods,  when  two  sav- 
ages were  seen  upon  the  hill  before  mentioned,  assuming  many 
hostile  attitudes.  Captain  Standish  with  one  companion  advanced 
toward  them,  but  they  turned  and  fled.  The  Pilgrims  had 
learned  from  Samoset  that  his  countrymen  relied  much  upon 
magic  and  incantation,  and  rightly  supposed  that  these  Indians 
were  endeavoring  to  put  them  under  a  spell. 

It  was  not  until  noon  of  the  following  day  that  Samoset 
returned,  accompanied  by  three  other  Indians.  One  of  these 
was  Squantum,  who  had  been  kidnapped  by  Captain  Hunt,  but 
purchased  and  sent  back  to  America  by  an  Englishman,  a  cer- 
tain Mr.  John  Slaney.  With  a  generosity  rare  in  the  red  man, 
he  had  forgotten  the  injuries  and  remembered  the  benefits 
received  ;  for  the  sake  of  his  liberator,  he  was  ready  to  befriend 
all  Englishmen.  These  visitors  brought  the  startling  news  that 
their  great  sachem,  Massasoit,  with  a  train  of  sixty  warriors, 
was  on  his  way  to  visit  them.  Such  guests  in  such  numbers 
were  by  no  means  desirable,  nor  did  Massasoit  wish  to  trust  him- 
self too  far  to  Captain  Hunt's  countrymen.  Several  messages 
passed  between  these  mutually  distrustful  parties,  and  at  last, 
on  Massasoit' s  proposal  that  the  colonists  should  send  one  of 
their  number  to  explain  their  reasons  for  settling  upon  the  lands 
of  his  vassal,  Mr.  Edward  Winslow  volunteered  to  go,  accom- 
panied by  Squantum,  who  had  been  acting  as  interpreter.  The 
sachem  gave  pleased  attention  to  this  gentleman's  conciliatory 
speech,  as  it  was  translated  to  him,  and  graciously  received  the 
presents  that  had  been  brought  to  him.  Mr.  Winslow's  long  and 
shining  sword  took  his  eye,  but  the  owner  refused  to  sell  it. 

Leaving  this  embassador  as  a  hostage  in  his  camp,  Massasoit, 
with  a  retinue  of  twenty  unarmed  men,  went  towards  the  village, 
sending  six  into  the  town  as  surety  for  his  good  faith.  Captain 
Standish  advanced  to  meet  him,  followed  by  six  of  his  men.  The 
Indians  did  not  guess  how  large  a  part  of  the  white  men's  force 
this  guard  of  honor  constituted.  Massasoit  and  his  attendants 
were  conducted  into  th6  presence  of  Grov.  Carver;  the  pipe  of  peace 
was  smoked ;  and  they  entered  into  a  treaty ;  one  article  being 
that  neither  party  should  go  armed  to  visit  the  other, 


Ill1  ~ 
!  Pi 

lift 


124  CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 

Massasoit  and  his  attendants  withdrew  at  night,  and  on  the  next 
day  were  visited  in  their  own  camp  by  Captain  Standish  and  a  com- 
panion. The  treaty  thus  made  and  cemented  by  friendly  inter- 
course greatly  encouraged  the  Pilgrims,  whom  a  hostile  recep- 
tion had  prepared  for  continual  contests.  This  peace  was  neces- 
sary in  the  extreme,  as  the  last  tie  that  bound  them  to  their  old 
home  had  been  broken  by  the  return  of  the  Mayflower  to  England 
shortly  after  Massasoit's  visit;  remain  in  the  wilderness  they 
must,  since  there  was  no  way  to  cross  the  ocean  :  even  though, 
as  the  ship  faded  from  sight,  a  new  trouble  came  upon  them  in 
the  death  of  their  governor. 

Unmolested  by  the  Indians,  and  with  no  hope  of  returning  to 
England,  they  devoted  themselves  to  the  work  of  spring  time  ; 
spading  up  the  earth,  since  thev  had  no  horses  or  oxen  for  the 
plow ;  planting  peas  and  barley,  also  corn  according  to  the  in- 
structions of  Squantum.  In  the  woods  was  an  abundant  supply 
of  berries,  in  the  streams  were  fish,  and  eels  in  such  quantities 
that  their  Indian  companion  could  tread  out  with  his  feet  and 
catch  in  his  hands,  during  the  day,  as  many  as  he  could  carry 
home  at  night.  But  while  the  men,  hoe  or  spade  in  hand,  work- 
ed around  the  little  group  of  log  houses,  with  constant  visits  from 
Indians,  women  and  children  clamoring  for  food  and  devouring 
with  wolfish  voracity,  there  frowned  above  them  from  the  rude 
fort  on  the  hill,  the  three  cannon  that  were  for  their  defense 
when  these  very  Indians  should  prove  treacherous. 

A  visit  to  Massasoit  by  two  of  the  Englishmen  revealed  to  them 
at  once  the  strength  and  the  weakness  of  Indian  tribes ;  they 
also  learned  that  he  was  at  war  with  the  Narragansetts,  a  power- 
ful tribe  living  to  the  south  of  his  territories.  NOT  were  all  of 
the  friendly  sagamore's  tributaries  as  peacefully  disposed  as  him- 
self. Corbitant,  a  chief  of  one  of  the  minor  tribes,  having  re- 
ceived the  news  of  Massasoit's  defeat  by  the  Narragansetts,  with 
whom  he  was  about  to  ally  himself,  endeavored  to  excite  a  revolt 
against  the  sagamore,  and  resolved  to  make  war  upon  the  settlers 
at  Plymouth.  Squantum,  accompanied  by  Hobbomak,  a  chief 
who  had  strongly  allied  himself  to  the  whites,  set  out  from  the 
village  to  visit  Massasoit,  with  inquiries  and  encouragement  for 
him  from  the  Englishmen.  Corbitant  captured  them,  and,  brand- 
ishing a  knife,  approached  Squantum  with  the  words  : 

"  When  Squantum  is  dead,  the  Englishmen  will  have  lost  their 
tongue," 


CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH.  125 

Intent  upon  the  destruction  of  the  interpreter,  the  captors  paid 
little  attention  to  Hobbomak,  who,  being  a  very  powerful  man, 
broke  away  while  their  leader  was  threatening  his  companion. 
Breathless  and  terrified,  he  reached  Plymouth  the  next  day,  una- 
ble to  tell  if  Squantum  were  dead  or  alive. 

"  If  we  allow  the  hostile  Indians  to  thus  assail  our  allies,"  ex- 
claimed the  Pilgrims,  "  none  of  the  natives,  however  kindly  dis- 
posed, will  dare  to  befriend  us.  We  must  show  them  that  we  will 
protect  our  friends." 

Accordingly,  on  the  fourteenth  of  August,  Captain  Standish  set 
out  to  avenge  the  murder  of  the  faithful  Squantum.  By  the  nar- 
row paths  that  generations  of  Indians  had  trodden  as  they  went 
on  hunting  or  war  parties,  they  journeyed  through  the  forest 
where  every  branch  showered  afresh  upon  them  the  rain  that 
fell  in  torrents.  Four  miles  from  Namasket,  where  Corbitant 
had  taken  his  prisoners,  they  halted,  late  in  the  afternoon.  Night 
came  on,  dark  with  clouds  and  driving  rain,  and  they  again  went 
on  their  way.  In  the  darkness*  they  missed  the  trail,  and  it  was 
only  after  groping  a  long  time  through  the  tangled  thickets  that 
they  again  found  it.  But  the  storm,  which  had  hitherto  been 
their  greatest  drawback,  now  befriended  them  ;  the  wailings  of 
the  wind,  the  patter  of  the  rain-drops,  hid  from  the  keen  ears  of 
their  enemies  their  approach.  Before  them,  at  last,  glimmered 
the  camp-fire,  and  creeping  closer,  they  saw  that  the  Indians  were 
sleeping.  The  slumbering  savages  were  rudely  awakened  by  a 
report  from  two  of  their  muskets,  fired  for  that  purpose,  and  Cap- 
tain Standish  with  two  or  three  others,  rushed  into  the  hut  where 
Corbitant  and  several  of  his  warriors  were  supposed  to  be  sleep- 
ing. 

"  Stay  in  the  wigwam,"  shouted  Hobbomak,  interpreting  the 
leader's  words;  "  stay  in  the  wigwam;  the  English  have  come 
only  for  Corbitant,  the  murderer  of  Squantum ;  if  he  is  not  here, 
they  will  hurt  no  one." 

But  the  report  of  the  muskets  had  half-crazed  the  savages  with 
fear,  and  in  their  wild  endeavors  to  escape  many  were  severely 
wounded.  The  scene  may  be  imagined  better  then  described,  lit 
up  by  the  flames  of  the  fire,  newly  kindled,  that  the  steel-clad 
soldiers  might  search  the  better  among  the  half-naked,  painted 
savages  for  the  offending  chief.  But  there  was  no  need  for  venge- 
ance j  Hobbomak,  climbing  to  the  top  of  the  wigwam,  called 
aloud  for  Squantum,  who  answered  in  person.  Much  rejoiced 


126  CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH. 

that  their  faithful  friend  was  still  alive,  the  white  men  disarmed 
the  Indians,  and  setting  a  guard,  slept  quietly  until  morning. 

The  Indians  of  Corbitant' s  party  had,  during  the  night,  fled  to 
their  chief,  so  that,  in  the  morning,  only  the  friendly  natives  re- 
mained. As  they  gathered  around  Captain  Standish  with  assur- 
ances of  good  will,  he  told  them  that  Corbitant  would  not  escape 
so  easily  the  next  time ;  that  if  the  Narragansetts  continued  hos- 
tile, they  would  be  punished  by  the  total  overthrow  of  their  tribe ; 
that  he  regretted  that  any  one  had  been  wounded,  but  that  it  was 
in  consequence  of  disobeying  his  orders.  Two  of  these  accepted 
his  invitation  to  come  to  Plymouth  to  be  tended  by  the  surgeon, 
and  accompanied  by  many  others,  the  little  party  returned,  reach- 
ing the  settlement  that  same  evening. 

The  consequences  of  this  expedition  were  of  great  importance. 
Many  sachems  expressed  their  desire  to  ally  themselves  with 
the  settlers ;  Corbitant  himself  made  peace  with  them  through 
the  good  offices  of  Massasoit ;  and  even  the  Narragansetts  made 
friendly  overtures. 

But  while  a  due  sense  of  their  power  was  thus  impressed  upon 
the  south,  the  settlers  were  threatened  with  danger  from  the 
tribe  about  forty  miles  to  the  north.  They  decided  to  send  an 
expedition  to  that  region,  to  establish  friendly  relations  with 
the  natives  and  to  examine  the  country.  In  the  latter  part  of 
September,  Captain  Standish,  with  nine  soldiers  and  Squantum 
and  two  other  Indians  as  interpreters,  set  sail  at  midnight  for 
their  destination.  Sailing  a  distance,  supposed  to  be  about  sixty 
miles  from  Plymouth,  they  passed  the  first  night  in  the  boat,  in 
a  sheltered  bay,  supposed  to  have  been  Boston  harbor. 

Landing  the  next  morning,  three  men  were  left  to  guard  the 
shallop,  two  stationed  as  sentinels  at  a  short  distance,  and  the 
others  were  led  by  their  brave  captain  into  the  forest.  On  land- 
ing, they  had  found  a  number  of  lobsters  lying  upon  the  beach, 
and  made  use  of  them.  Meeting  with  a  woman  who  was  going 
to  the  shore  to  get  them,  they  paid  her  for  the  food,  and  obtained 
information  as  to  the  residence  of  the  chief,  Obbatinewat.  As 
this  was  a  little  farther  along  the  coast,  the  party  returned  to 
the  shallop,  arriving  at  the  village  after  a  short  sail.  Here  they 
met  with  a  cordial  welcome,  and  were  enabled  to  act  as  peace- 
makers between  this  tribe  and  that  governed  by  the  squaw 
sachem,  the  widow  of  the  late  chief.  Squantum,  with  true  Indian 
spirit,  counselled  Captain  Standis.h  to  take  by  force  all  the  skins. 


MltES  mNfclSB.  127 

in  possession  of  this  latter  tribe,  because  they  were  bad  people 
and  had  often  threatened  the  settlements. 

"Were  they  never  so  bad/'  answered  the  Puritan  captain 
gravely,  "  we  would  not  wrong  them,  o*  give  them  just  reason 
to  complain  of  us.  For  we  little  weighed  their  words  that  threat- 
ened us,  and  if  they  once  attempted  to  act  against  us,  we  would 
deal  far  worse  'with  them  than  you  desire." 

After  trading  for  the  furs  which  Squantum  wished  them  to 
seize,  they  returned,  having  been  absent  four  days.  Peaceful  rela- 
tions were  now  established  with  all  the  surrounding  Indians,  a 
bountiful  harvest  of  corn  was  gathered,  the  fur-trade  with  the 
natives  was  profitable,  fishing  was  rewarded  with  abundance, 
the  forests  were  filled  with  deer  and  wild  turkeys,  and  the  streams 
abounded  -with  water-fowl.  Their  houses  were  made  tighter  and 
more  comfortable,  ample  supplies  of  fuel  gathered,  and  every- 
thing thus  prepared  for  the  advent  of  winter.  The  arrival  of  a 
vessel  with  thirty-five  colonists  who  had  left  England  with  bare- 
ly enough  provisions  for  the  voyage,  put  an  end  to  their  rejoic- 
ings, and  obliged  them  to  put  the  whole  colony  upon  half-rations. 

The  colony  now  had  about  fifty  men  capable  of  bearing  arms, 
although  but  a  small  supply  of  ammunition.  Eumors  reached 
them,  in  midwinter,  that  the  ISTarragansetts  were  assuming  a  hos- 
tile attitude.  As  this  tribe  numbered  about  thirty  thousand,  five 
thousand  of  whom  were  warriors,  the  threatening  character  of 
this  intelligence  will  be  readily  seen.  While  they  were  still 
alarmed  about  the  rumor,  a  strange  Indian  one  day  entered  the 
town  and  asked  for  Squantum.  The  answer  that  he  was  not  there 
seemed  to  relieve  him  of  some  fear,  and  he  was  about  to  depart, 
after  having  left  for  him  a  bundle  of  arrows  tied  with  a  rattle- 
snake's skin,  when  Captain  Standish,  at  the  governor's  request, 
detained  him.  He  was  evidently  a  RTarragansett,  but  was  so  ter- 
rified that  it  was  only  with  difficulty  that  they  could  make  him 
speak.  Gradually  gaining  confidence,  he  told  them  that  Canon- 
icus,  enraged  at  their  having  made  peace  with  his  enemies,  the 
tribes  to  the  north,  despising  the  meanness  of  their  presents  to 
him,  and  well  aware  of  their  weakness,  had  determined  to  make 
war  upon  them,  and  that  this  was  his  challenge. 

The  messenger  was,  by  the  rules  of  war,  entitled  to  safe  con- 
duct 5  nor  had  they  any  desire  to  detain  him. 

"  Say  to  Canonicus  that  we  wish  to  live  at  peace  with  all  men. 
Tell  him  that  we  have  done  him  no  harm,  and  would  not  have 


MILES  STANBisa.  129 

injured  him;  but  we  are  not  afraid  of  his  power,  and  will  soon 
make  him  regret  that  he  threatened  us." 

Such  was  the  message  with  which  he  was  entrusted.  Refusing 
all  offers  of  food,  or  of  shelter,  he  left  the  village  as  soon  as  he 
could  do  so,  and  disappeared  in  the  forest.  In  the  council  that  was 
held  immediately  afterwards,  tradition  has  it  that  it  was  Captain 
Standish  that  jerked  the  arrows  from  the  rattlesnake's  skin,  and 
filling  it  to  the  very  jaws  with  powder  and  shot,  sent  it  to  Canon- 
icus  as  his  answer.  Certain  it  is  that  such  a  reply  was  despatched 
to  the  chief's  declaration  of  war,  and  who  so  likely  to  send  it  as 
the  hot-blooded  descendant  of  the  old  crusader  ?  Canonicus  re- 
ceived it,  and  was  struck  with  terror.  Squantum  had  told  him 
that  the  Englishmen  kept  the  plague  shut  up  in  a  box  and  could 
let  it  loose  upon  those  that  offended  them  •  this  might  be,  for 
aught  he  knew,  a  symbol  of  destruction  as  sure  as  the  pestilence; 
he  dare  not  destroy  it,  he  dare  not  keep  it,  anditwas  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  until  it  came  back  to  Plymouth. 

The  story  runs  (and  Longfellow  has  made  the  tradition  immor- 
tal) that  the  day  this  declaration  was  received,  John  Alden  had 
been  sent  upon  his  memorable  errand.  We  have  already  noted 
the  brave  captain's  grief  for  his  wife  ;  he  had  found,  he  thought,  a 
flower  as  fair  and  sweet  as  his  lost  Rose.  In  direct  defiance  of  the 
one  guiding  principle  of  his  life : 

"If  you  want  a  thing  well  done,  you  must  do  it  yourself; 

You  must  not  leave  it  to  others," 

he  sent  John  Alden,  the  young  scribe  whom  he  had  chosen  as  his 
friend,  to  woo  sweet  Priscilla  Mullins  for  him.  Alden  had  just 
returned  to  the  humble  cottage  which  the  two  strangely  different 
friends  shared  with  each  other,  with  the  maiden's  reply  :  "  Why 
don't  you  speak  for  yourself,  John  ?"  Standish  had  listened  in 
anger,  and  was  in  the  midst  of  his  bitterest  reproaches  when  the 
summons  came  to  the  council.  Thither  he  went,  with  what  re- 
sult we  have  seen. 

Every  precaution  was  now  taken  against  a  surprise  by  the  In- 
dians. A  palisade  of  strong  posts  ten  or  twelve  feet  high,  in 
contact  with  each  other,  was  put  around  the  whole  village.  Tho 
three  gates  of  entrance  were  locked  by  night,  and  guarded  by 
day.  Every  man  knew  his  post  and  his  duty  in  time  of  danger. 

Secure  in  these  preparations,  and  believing  that  a  bold  and 
fearless  bearing  would  be  the  best  to  discourage  the  Indians, 
Captain  Standish,  with  ten  men,  set  out  in  the  shallop,  early  in 


130  CAPTAIN  MILES  STANDISH. 

April,  to  recommence  trading  wjth  the  natives.  Just  as  the  lit- 
tle vessel  was  doubling  a  promontory  in  the  bay,  one  of  the  fam- 
ily of  Squantum,  his  face  covered  with  blood,  came  rushing  to 
some  men  at  work  in  the  woods  to  bid  them  hasten  to  the  pro- 
tection of  the  palisades.  Within  fifteen  miles  of  Plymouth,  he 
said,  the  treacherous  chief  Massasoit  had  assembled  a  large  war 
party  and  was  marching  to  the  attack  of  the  settlement.  He  had 
narrowly  escaped  their  vengeance  for  speaking  favorably  of  the 
English.  At  this  startling  news,  the  shallop  was  recalled  by  a 
gun,  and  Captain  Standish,  returning,  adopted  vigorous  measures 
for  defense. 

Hobbomak,  who  had  been  of  Captain  Standish's  party,  declared 
the  report  false  ;  saying  that  Massasoit  could  not  undertake  such  a 
thing  without  the  aid  of  his  tributaries,  of  whom  he  himself  was 
not  the  least.  His  wife  was  sent  to  Pokanoket,  as  a,  secret  agent, 
to  ascertain  the  facts.  Finding  Massasoit  quietly  living  there, 
she  told  him  of  the  report.  Indignant  at  the  slander,  he  sever- 
ely blamed  Squantum,  and  sent  many  messages  of  friendship  to 
the  Pilgrims. 

Squantum' s  truthfulness  had  been  doubted  before ;  they  believ- 
ed him,  and  truly,  to  be  a  friend  to  them,  but  felt  that  he  was 
playing  a  double  part  with  his  countrymen.  His  situation  was 
peculiar :  kidnapped  by  Captain  Hunt,  when  he  was  returned  to 
America  he  found  his  whole  tribe  had  been  swept  away  by  the 
plague  ;  without  hopes  of  advancement  by  means  of  his  kinsmen, 
and  being  ambitious,  he  endeavored  to  govern  the  Indians  of 
other  tribes  by  means  of  his  standing  with  the  white  men.  His 
invention  regarding  the  plague  has  already  been  related ;  and  he 
tried  to  make  the  Indians  believe  that  he  could  lead  the  settlers 
to  declare  peace  or  war  at  his  pleasure  ;  threatening  them  with 
war,  and  when  he  had  been  propitiated  by  gifts,  announcing  that 
he  had  secured  peace.  His  slander  of  Massasoit  was  intended  to 
provoke  such  enmity  between  the  whites  and  Indians  that  he, 
the  only  means  of  communication  between  them,  would  obtain 
added  honor  and  influence.  Massasoit  demanded  that  Squantum 
be  sent  to  him  to  be  put  to  death,  and  persisted  in  this,  not- 
withstanding Governor  Bradford's  plea  that  since  he  alone  under- 
stood both  languages,  he  could  not  be  spared.  This  refusal  in 
the  teeth  of  the  treaty  by  which  criminals  were  to  be  delivered 
to  the  proper  party,  enraged  Massasoit,  and  for  some  time  there 
was  no  friendly  communication  between  them.  This  was  the 


MILES   STANblSH.  131 

more  dangerous,  as  the  Indians  were  liable  to  be  stirred  up  by 
the  news  of  the  recent  massacre  of  the  Yirginia  settlers,  to  simi- 
lar outrages. 

Their  difficulties  were  increased  by  the  arrival  of  new  colon- 
ists who  proved  very  undesirable  ;  and  when  these  were  settled 
at  Weymouth,  their  prodigality  of  food  threw  them  often  upon 
the  charity  of  the  people  at  Plymouth ;  while  their  treatment  of 
the  Indians  made  enemies  of  the  red  men.  Coming  to  want  so 
often,  and  robbing  the  Pilgrims  of  their  treasured  food,  necessi- 
tated frequent  trips  to  buy  corn  of  the  Indians.  On  one  of  these 
expeditions,  Squantum  died,  praying  that  he  might  be  taken  to 
the  white  man's  heaven.  This  was  an  irreparable  loss,  since  it 
deprived  them  of  their  best,  almost  their  only  interpreter. 

Captain  Standish  having  been  laid  up  with  a  fever,  Governor 
Bradford  had  led  most  of  these  expeditions ;  but  upon  the 
recovery  of  the  former,  he  took  the  shallop  and  went  to  a  point 
where  the  governor  had  stored  some  corn.  It  was  the  midst  of 
winter,  and  bitterly  cold  weather ;  they  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  harbor  near  where  the  corn  was  stored  ;  the  weather  being 
too  cold  to  sleep  in  the  shallop,  they  had  to  accept  the  hospital- 
ity of  the  Indians,  whose  sincerity  they  doubted.  Eeceived 
apparently  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  Captain  Standish  had  no 
reason  to  give  for  suspicious  actions,  but  quietly  gave  orders 
that  a  part  of  the  company  should  always  watch  at  night.  No 
hostile  act  justified  his  suspicions,  and  they  returned  home  in 
safety.  A  second  trip  soon  became  necessary,  since  a  part  of 
every  supply  of  food  must  go  to  Weymouth,  and  early  in  March 
Captain  Standish  went  back  to  Manomet. 

His  reception  was  a  colder  one  than  ever  before,  and  he  was 
now  certain  that  the  Indians  were  plotting  against  the  whites. 
Into  the  wigwam  of  Canacum  came  two  savages  from  the  vicin- 
ity of  Weymouth,  one  of  whom,  "Wattawamat,  in  a  speech  unin- 
telligible in  language,  but  plain  in  tone  and  gesture  to  Standish, 
addressed  Canacum.  After  stating  his  plan  to  destroy  the  col- 
ony at  Weymouth,  he  went  on  to  say  that  to  prevent  the  Ply- 
mouth settlers  from  avenging  their  countrymen,  they  too  must  be 
massacred ;  that  this  task  would  be  made  easy  by  killing  the 
captain  and  his  six  men,  now  in  their  midst. 

Canacum  seemed  much  impressed  by  this  speech,  and  showed 
a  marked  difference  in  his  treatment  of  his  guests.  A  plot  was 
actually  formed  to  massacre  the  seven  men,  but  was  frustrated  by 
9 


132  CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH. 

the  prudence  of  the  captain,  who  refused  to  sleep  anywhere  but 
in  the  shallop  ;  whither  the  Indians,  having  a  wholesome  terror 
of  muskets,  were  afraid  to  venture. 

News  had  reached  Plymouth,  during  Captain  Standish's  ab- 
sence, that  Massasoit  was  dangerously  ill — dying.  Messrs.  Win- 
slow  and  Hampden  immediately  set  out  upon  a  visit  to  the  sick 
chief,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  cure  him.  Hobbomak  was  in- 
terpreter, and  to  him  the  grateful  Massasoit  revealed  the  plot  of 
the  Massachusetts  Indians  to  destroy  the  Weymouth,  and  then 
the  Plymouth  colony.  Seven  tribes  were  in  the  conspiracy,  some 
of  whom  were  loud  in  their  assurances  of  friendship.  Hobbomak 
was  instructed  to  tell  this  to  the  two  white  men  as  they  returned 
to  the  town ;  and  Massasoit  added  a  piece  of  advice,  founded  on 
his  knowledge  of  his  race  : 

"  Say  to  them  that  they  often  say  they  will  never  strike  the 
first  blow.  But  if  they  wait  until  their  countrymen  at  Weymouth 
are  killed,  who  are  entirely  unable  to  defend  themselves,  it  will 
then  be  too  late  for  them  to  protect  their  own  lives.  I  therefore 
advise  them,  without  delay,  to  put  the  leaders  of  this  plot  to  death." 

The  conduct  of  the  Weymouth  colonists  was  leading  the  Indians 
to  despise  the  white  men,  and  the  Pilgrims  saw  that  trouble  was 
not  far  off.  It  was  necessary  to  regain  the  natives'  respect  for 
the  superior  race,  but  some  time  had  elapsed  before  they  could 
decide  what  course  to  pursue.  At  last,  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
governor,  Captain  Standish  went  to  visit  the  Indians,  to  careful- 
ly scrutinize  their  conduct,  and  adopt  such  measures  as  he 
might  think  best.  He  was  further  instructed  to  bring  back  with 
him  the  head  of  the  braggart  Wattawamat. 

Proceeding  to  Weymouth,  Captain  Standish  gave  the  poor 
wretches  there  the  invitation  of  the  governor  and  people  of  Ply- 
mouth to  their  home.  While  the  Puritan  soldiers  were  in  this 
settlement,  the  Indians  sent  thither  a  spy,  ostensibly  to  sell  furs. 
Eeturning  with  the  report  that,  although  treated  with  the  usual 
kindness,  he  saw,  by  his  eyes,  that  the  captain  was  angry  in  his 
heart,  the  savages  were  only  excited  to  insolence.  Pecksnot  and 
Wattawamat  came  swaggering  into  the  village,  with  a  mob  of 
Indians  at  their  heels. 

"Tell  your  captain,"  said  Pecksnot,  "that  we  know  he  has 
come  to  kill  us,  but  we  do  not  fear  him.  Let  him  try  it  as  soon 
as  he  dares ;  we  are  ready  for  him  as  soon  as  he  is  ready  for  us." 

Pecksnot,  Wattawamat  and  his  brother,  and  another  Indian, 


134  CAPTAIN  MILES  STANDISH. 

came  to  where  Captain  Standish  and  four  of  his  soldiers  were. 
Pretending  at  first  to  wish  to  trade  furs  for  blankets  and  mus- 
kets, they  threw  off  this  mask  when  they  saw  that  it  did  not  de- 
ceive the  captain,  and  began  to  use  the  most  insulting  language. 

"  He  eat,"  said  Pecksnot,  brandishing  his  weapon ;  "  he  no 
talk,  but  he  eat  little  man  all  up.  Little  man  better  go  live  with 
squaws.  Pecksnot  big  man." 

The  chief  was  gigantic  in  size,  while  the  captain  of  Plymouth's 
stature  was  as  short  as  his  patience  with  the  Indians.  Around 
them  were  seen  the  savages,  stealing  from  bush  to  bush.  The 
captain  never  once  lost  his  calmness  or  self-possession,  but  at  a 
signal  that  his  men  well  understood,  he  leaped  upon  the  dusky 
giant,  wrenched  the  weapon  from  his  hand,  and  laid  open  his 
skull.  Wattawamat  and  the  other  Indian  were  killed,  and  the 
brother  of  the  former  was  afterward  hanged.  Dismayed  at  the 
result  of  this  fierce  struggle,  the  Indians  around  the  house  fled 
from  the  terrible  "  little  man,"  whose  iron  muscle  could  subdue 
Pecksnot,  once  the  strength  of  the  tribe,  and  Standish  and  his 
men  spread  their  sails  for  home.  The  head  of  Wattawamat  was 
taken  back  to  Plymouth,  and  there  set  upon  the  fort — a  ghastly 
sight,  but  not  as  strange  in  those  days  as  it  would  be  now.  The 
decisive  action  of  Standish  in  this  case  has  been  often  censured, 
but  we  must  remember  the  character  of  the  enemy  with  which  he 
had  to  deal — bold,  cunning  and  treacherous,  believing  no  man's 
word,  because  his  own  was  so  untrustworthy. 

Terrible  tidings  reached  Plymouth :  the  gallant  soldier  upon 
whose  generalship  they  relied  for  safety  from  the  Indians,  had 
been  slain  by  a  poisoned  arrow.  We  may  imagine  the  dismay 
which  spread  among  the  Pilgrims  at  this  intelligence.  Only  one 
man  saw  any  good  in  this  misfortune,  and  although  he  bitterly 
reproached  himself  for  rejoicing  at  the  death  of  his  friend,  ho 
hastened  to  avail  himself  of  the  advantages  which  it  brought  him. 
So  long  as  Miles  Standish  lived,  John  Alden  would  not  "  speak 
for  himself"  to  Priscilla ;  but  when  the  news  of  his  friend's  death 
came,  he  was  free  from  the  obligation.  Long  engagements  were 
not  the  fashion  in  those  days,  and  the  wedding  took  place  soon 
after  the  wooing.  As  the  solemn  pledge  was  given,  there  came 
to  the  door  the  figure  of  a  man — 

"  Short  of  stature  he  was,  but  strongly  built  and  athletic, 
Broad  in  the  shoulders,  deep-chested,  with  muscles  and  sinews  of  iron ; 
Brown  as  a  nut  was  his  face,  but  his  russet  beard  was  already 
Flaked  with  patches  of  snow,  as  hedges  sometimes  in  November." 


CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH.  135 

To  the  startled  men  and  women  there  assembled  it  seemed  an 
illusion  of  the  senses — a  specter, — but  the  mail-clad  figure  ad- 
vanced into  the  room,  and  they  saw  that  it  was,  in  very  truth,  the 
Captain  of  Plymouth ;  but  the  heat  of  his  anger  had  passed, 
and  he  was  ready  to  mingle  his  congratulations  with  those  of 
other  friends. 

Not  long  after  this,  Captain  Standish  went  to  England  to  ne- 
gotiate a  loan  for  the  colony,  their  stock  of  trinkets  for  trading 
with  the  Indians  being  exhausted,  and  Barbara,  the  sister  of  the 
long-remembered  Rose,  became  his  wife.  This  time  ho  held  to 
his  favorite  motto,  and  did  not  delegate  the  asking  to  any  one 
else. 

An  expedition  undertaken  in  the  spring  of  1632  shows  clearly 
what  a  tower  of  strength  the  settlers  thought  their  military  lead- 
er. Into  the  settlement  came  an  Indian,  breathless  with  haste 
and  terror,  bearing  a  message  from  Massasoit.  The  Karragan- 
setts  were  marching  upon  his  seat  at  Mount  Hope,  and  he  asked 
aid  from  the  white  men,  who  would  be  attacked  as  soon  as  he 
should  be  defeated.  Four  men  were  considered  a  sufficient  force, 
when  Captain  Standish  was  one  of  them.  It  was  true  that  the 
Narragansetts  were  advancing  upon  the  faithful  ally  of  the  Pil- 
grims, but  most  fortunately  their  plans  were  changed  by 'an  in- 
road of  the  Pequods  into  their  own  territory. 

The  difficulties  of  Plymouth  were  no  longer  confined  to  trou- 
bles with  the  Indians;  other  settlements  had  been  made  along 
the  coast,  and  with  these  and  with  trading  vessels  there  were  oc- 
casional disputes.  At  one  time,  an  Englishman  having  begun 
to  trade  with  the  Indians  in  territory  claimed  by  Plymouth,  the 
agent  stationed  there  by  the  settlers  requested  him  to  desist;  he 
refused,  coupling  his  refusal  with  the  most  insulting  expressions, 
and  finally  fired  upon  the  boat  which  contained  the  agent  and  his 
companions,  one  of  whom  was  John  Alden.  The  shot  was  re- 
turned, with  fatal  effect.  No  one  knows  who  fired  this  shot,  but 
certainly  it  was  not  John  Alden.  Nevertheless,  while  in  Boston 
a  short  time  afterward,  he  was  arrested  and  held  for  trial.  Of 
course  the  Massachusetts  colonists  had  no  right  to  do  this,  and  the 
Plymouth  people  were  justly  indignant  at  the  invasion  of  their 
prerogative.  Miles  Standish  was  the  man  selected  to  represent 
the  facts  in  their  true  light  to  them,  and  so  well  did  he  perform 
the  task  that  Alden  was  released,  and  love  and  concord  renewed 
between  the  two  colonies. 


136  CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH. 

The  French,  too,  gave  them  some  trouble,  as  this  whole  coast 
was  claimed  by  them.  The  chief  difficulty  arising  from  their 
presence  was  that  they  sold  muskets  and  ammunition  to  the  In- 
dians, thus  enabling  them  to  do  more  harm  to  the  white  men. 
Had  not  the  tribes  been  again  visited  by  such  a  plague  as  swept 
away  so  many  thousands  just  before  the  landing  of  the  Plymouth 
settlers,  this  injudicious  proceeding  of  the  French  might  have 
resulted  in  the  destruction  of  all  the  colonies. 

In  1633,  Captain  Standish  removed  his  residence  to  a  beautiful 
point  on  the  northern  coast  of  Plymouth  bay,  choosing  an  eleva- 
tion still  called  Captain's  Hill.  His  dwelling  was  soon' surround- 
ed by  others  who  appreciated  the  advantages  of  the  location, 
and  the  little  settlement  was  named  Duxbury,  from  that  Lanca- 
shire Hall  which  should  have  been  his  inheritance.  He,  how- 
ever, continued  to  act  as  their  chief  defender  against  all  their 
enemies. 

Early  in  1637,  the  Pequod  Indians  began  hostilities,  endeavor- 
ing to  draw  the  Narragansetts  into  a  league  against  the  whites. 
These  efforts  were,  however,  made  of  no  avail  by  the  heroism  of 
Eoger  "Williams  in  visiting  Canonicus,  to  persuade  him  not  to 
listen  to  the  Pequods.  The  combined  force  of  the  colonies,  the 
fifty  men  from  Plymouth  being  commanded  by  Captain  Standish, 
was  successful  in  routing  the  Indians.  Such,  for  many  years,  was 
the  end  of  most  expeditions  of  the  white  men  against  the  Indians. 
JSTew  colonies  had  arisen  all  along  the  coast  of  New  England,  and 
the  brunt  of  the  work  of  defense  no  longer  fell  upon  a  single  set- 
tlement. 

Captain  Standish  passed  the  evening  of  his  days  on  his  farm 
at  Duxbury,  three  miles  by  water  from  Plymouth.  Here  he 
stood  beside  the  grave  of  Elder  Brewster,  that  man  of  Grod  who 
had  been  the  friend  of  the  sturdy  soldier.  After  the  death  of 
his  friend,  he  must  often  have  thought  of  the  strangeness  of  that 
friendship,  symbolized  to  his  eye  by  his  three  muskets,  lying  by 
his  three  Bibles.  In  quiet  and  peace  he  passed  away,  October  3, 
1656,  and  was  buried  on  Captain's  Hill. 

On  the  summit  of  this  eminence,  a  stately  monument  has  been 
erected  to  his  memory  by  his  numerous  descendants ;  the  shaft, 
towering  a  hundred  feet  and  more  into  the  air,  crowned  by  a 
colossal  statue  of  the  Captain  of  Plymouth ;  where  his  grave  is, 
no  one  knows ;  the  exact  spot  has  long  been  forgotten ;  but  the 
shadow  falls  sometime  upon  it  as  the  sun  looks  down  on  Cap- 


CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH.  137 

tain's  Hill,  and  the  air  blows  fresh  from  Plymouth  over  his  last 
resting-place,  as  when  it  bore  to  his  listening  ear  the  sound  of 
the  gun  that  called  him  from  his  well-earned  repose  to  repel  the 
savage's  attack ;  sleeping  there,  to 

"Dream  of  battle-fields  no  more, 
Days  of  danger,  nights  of  waking." 

Not  many  years  after  the  death  of  Miles  Standish,  died  Massa- 
soit,  the  firm  friend  of  the  Puritans.  In  general,  his  friendly 
attitude  was  fully  recognized,  and  the  settlers  at  Plymouth,  in 
particular,  scrupulously  kept  the  peace  with  this  ally.  To  his 
eldest  sons,  Wamsutta  and  Pometacom,  had  been  given  English 
names,  Alexander  and  Philip.  The  former  was  his  father's  suc- 
cessor, and  for  a  while  continued  to  keep  his  people  in  the  same 
friendly  relations  which  they  had  known  for  forty  years.  But 
whether  his  powers  or  his  intentions  were  at  fault,  frequent  dep- 
redations were  traced  to  the  Wampanoags. 

Wamsutta  died  in  a  few  months  after  his  father,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  his  brother  Pometacom,  or  Philip.  For  several  years 
the  same  state  of  things  continued,  but  Philip  always  protested 
his  people  were  not  to  blame,  and  that  he  was  as  sincere  a  friend 
to  the  colonists  as  ever  his  father  had  been.  Secretly,  however, 
he  brooded  over  his  wrongs.  Large  tracts  of  land  had  been  sold 
to  the  white  men  by  Massasoit  and  his  two  sons,  for  what  the 
Indians  thought  invaluable  treasures  at  the  time  j  but  the  trinkets 
were  lost,  the  blankets  worn  to  rags,  and  the  land  remained  in  the 
possession  of  the  purchasers.  Like  children,  the  Indians  had 
sold  their  valuable  possessions  for  trifles,  and  saw  too  late  the  er- 
ror into  which  they  had  fallen. 

Nor  was  the  loss  of  the  land  itself  all  of  the  wrong  that  they 
had  suffered ;  the  vicinity  of  the  white  men  had  destroyed  the 
charm  of  the  wilderness  ;  cattle  were  feeding  where  the  deer  used 
to  roam,  and  trespassed  even  upon  their  cornfields.  The  sugges- 
tion that  fences  be  built  around  the  fields  was  received  with  scorn. 
They  had  made  war  with  the  Narragansetts,  with  but  short  inter- 
vals of  peace,  ever  since  the  white  men  had  been  in  the  country ; 
now,  perhaps,  they  had  better  ally  themselves  with  that  power- 
ful tribe.  The  anger  of  the  Indians  was  further  excited  by  the 
attempt  of  the  settlers  to  make  them  conform  to  law ;  if  one  In- 
dian killed  another,  was  it  any  business  of  the  colonists  ?  Had 
they  any  right  to  hang  the  murderer— as  they  did  whenever  they 
could  catch  him  ? 


138  CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH. 

About  1670  Philip's  intentions  began  to  be  suspected,  and  a 
year  later  the  whites  attempted  to  disarm  the  Indians,  who  had 
obtained  fire-arms  from  various  sources.  The  savages,  however, 
knew  too  well  what  would  be  the  result  if  they  were  again  de- 
prived of  all  weapons  but  the  bow  and  arrows  and  the  war-club, 
and  resisted  so  heartily  that  the  idea  was,  for  a  time  at  least,  giv- 
en up.  Proud  and  haughty  as  he  was,  Philip  was  not  cruel,  nor 
was  he  as  bloodthirsty  as  many  have  represented  him.  But  the 
pressure  brought  to  bear  upon  him  was  too  great  for  him  to  re- 
sist, and  although  he  did  not,  perhaps,  intend  to  make  war  unless 
further  provocation  were  given,  he  sent  messengers  to  the  various 
neighboring  tribes  to  know  their  opinion  as  to  the  stand  the  whites 
had  taken.  Thus  were  welded  the  links  of  the  chain  which  bound 
Philip  to  war:  his  warriors  would  despise  and  refuse  to  recognize 
a  chief  who  remained  quietly  at  home  while  the  white  men  overran 
the  country;  he  sent  to  know  if  other  chiefs  intended  to  act;  his 
influence  was  such  that  they,  supposing  he  wished  them  to  do  so, 
prepared  for  war;  and  Sassamon  informed  the  white  men  that 
Philip  and  his  men  had  conspired  against  them. 

Provoked  at  this  betrayal  of  their  chief,  three  of  Philip's  war- 
riors killed  Sassamon,  and  were,  in  turn,  captured  and  hanged  by 
the  authorities  at  Boston.  Angered  at  this  invasion  of  the  rights 
of  their  chief,  many  of  the  Indians  watched  their  opportunity, 
and  stole  the  provisions  and  shot  the  cattle  of  the  white  people. 
Superstition,  however,  prevented,  for  the  present,  the  loss  of  hu- 
man life,  for  the  " medicine  men"  had  warned  them  that  the 
party  that  drew  the  first  blood  would  be  beaten.  The  white  men 
were  not  disposed  to  submit  tamely  to  the  depredations  of  the 
Indians,  and  were  always  prepared  to  punish  the  offenders. 
Lurking  around  the  white  settlements  on  the  nineteenth  of  June, 
1675,  an  Indian  thought  he  saw  his  opportunity  to  inflict  injury 
upon  one  of  the  enemies  of  his  race.  His  gun  was  leveled,  not 
at  a  man,  but  at  some  oxen  quietly  feeding.  One  fell,  but  he 
had  not  time  to  reload  when  he  was  forced  to  beat  a  hasty  re- 
treat before  the  owner  of  the  animal.  As  he  fled,  a  ball  struck 
him ;  but  staunching  the  blood,  he  kept  on  his  way ;  to  the  desire 
of  escape  was  now  added  the  desire  of  telling  his  people  that  the 
whites  had  shed  the  first  blood. 

Quickly  the  Indians  prepared  for  war.  A  little  bag  of  pounded 
maize — that  was  enough  to  sustain  a  warrior's  strength  for  days 
—and  all  the  muskets  and  ammunition  they  could  get  together. 


CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH. 


139 


140  CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDISH. 

The  twenty-fourth  of  June  was  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer, 
solemnly  agreed  upon  by  the  people  as  they  recognized  their 
danger.  This  was  more  immediate  than  they  had  feared.  As 
they  issued  from  the  meeting-house,  a  sharp  crack  of  many 
guns  ran  through  the  little  settlement  of  Swanzey,  and  one  man 
fell  dead.  Several  men  were  wounded,  and  two,  who  had  been 
hastily  despatched  for  a  surgeon,  were  killed  by  a  second  vol- 
ley; later,  three  more  fell. 

The  war  had  begun  in  good  earnest  and  there  was  no  time  to 
be  lost.  Messengers  were  sent  flying  over  the  country  to  bid 
the  neighboring  settlements  prepare  to  defend  themselves.  The 
Indians,  in  accordance  with  their  customs,  did  not  venture  to 
meet  the  colonists  in  battle,  but  burned  settlements,  laid  am- 
buscades for  the  settlers,  and  killed  the  stragglers.  All  the 
horrors  of  Indian  warfare  had  burst  upon  New  England.  The 
savages  lurked  in  every  forest,  in  every  thicket ;  they  watched 
for  the  lonely  settler  as  he  opened  his  door  in  the  morning,  as 
he  busied  himself  with  his  work  in  the  field,  or  as  he  walked  along 
the  forest  path  to  meeting.  The  blood-curdling  war-whoop,  the 
gleam  of  the  scalping  knife,  the  deadly  thud  of  the  tomahawk, 
were  familiar  to  their  dreams  and  waking  thoughts  alike. 

The  whites  marched  directly  upon  Mount  Hope,  Philip's  seat; 
proceeding  with  such  secrecy  as  to  surprise  the  wary  savages 
so  completely  that  the  savage  king  barely  escaped  being  made 
prisoner.  Before  his  wigwam  stood  eight  poles,  each  surmounted 
by  the  head  of  a  white  man.  Incited  to  vengeance  by  this 
ghastly  spectacle,  the  whites  killed  fifteen  Indians,  laid  waste 
the  surrounding  fields  and  drove  off  all  Philip's  cattle  and  hogs. 
At  Pocasset,  a  party  of  about  three  hundred  Indians  came  sud- 
denly upon  Captain  Church's  little  force  of  thirty-six  men.  The 
soldiers  fought  bravely,  until  Captain  G-olding  brought  a  sloop 
to  their  relief.  A  new  difficulty  arose,  for  the  water  near  the 
shore  was  too  shallow  to  allow  the  sloop  to  approach,  and  a 
canoe  could  only  carry  two.  But  while  the  bullets  whistled 
around  them,  riddling  the  sail,  grazing  the  cheek  of  the  captain, 
and  passing  through  the  canoe,  the  little  force  gained  the  vessel 
without  the  loss  of  a  man. 

Philip  had  been  driven  from  his  home,  and  would  not  cease 
hostilities  until  his  tribe  should  conquer,  or  be  like  the  Pequods, 
exterminated.  All  the  New  England  tribes  but  one,  the  Mohi- 
cans, joined  the  league,  Their  chief,  Tineas,  had  long  been  the 


CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH.  141 

rival  of  Philip,  and  a  faithful  ally  throughout  the  Pequod  war, 
and  determined  to  assist  his  white  friends  now;  his  men  proved 
of  great  service  as  guides  through  the  forest. 

The  attack  upon  Brookfield,  Massachusetts,  was  prosecuted 
with  the  most  determined  fury  by  the  Indians.  Their  sudden 
appearance  near  the  town  sent  the  eighty  settlers  flying  into  the 
block-house  for  protection.  The  other  houses  were  burned  by 
the  savages,  and  the  howling,  swarthy  throng,  numbering  six  or 
seven  hundred,  sheltering  themselves  behind  trees  and  fences, 
creeping  along  the  ground  through  the  high  grass,  seemed  like 
so  many  birds  of  prey  watching  the  little  flock  within  the  shelter 
of  that  rude  log  building.  A  flash  at  a  loop-hole  of  the  block- 
house, and  an  Indian  falls ;  then  flash  after  flash,  each  one  fatal. 
Despairing  of  success,  they  piled  bundles  of  flax  upon  a  cart 
which  had  been  left  near  by  in  a  field,  and  setting  the  flax  on 
fire,  moved  the  burning  pile  toward  the  block-house.  But  long 
before  they  had  gotten  this  rude  engine  of  destruction  under 
the  overhanging  second  floor  of  the  fort,  their  design  was  per- 
ceived. In  spite  of  the  flames  which  they  had  hoped  would  con- 
ceal the  dusky  figures  beneath  the  cart,  the  deadly  fire  again 
issues  from  the  loop-holes,  and  at  last  there  is  no  one  to  guide 
the  load  of  burning  flax.  Then,  while  the  balls  fall  like  hail 
around  him,  a  settler  runs  from  the  fort  and  extinguishes  the 
flames,  which  the  wind  drives  dangerously  toward  the  block-house. 
Eeinforcements  arrive  soon  afterward,  and  the  Indians  hastily 
retreat,  leaving  eighty  of  their  number  dead  upon  the  field. 

The  Narragansetts  finally  joined  Philip,  and  fortified  them- 
selves in  a  swamp.  Around  them  stretched  the  impenetrable 
morass,  only  one  path  leading  to  the  spot  of  dry  land  where 
clustered  their  five  hundred  wigwams.  This  path  had  been  beat- 
en by  the  feet  of  the  Indian,  and  admitted  only  a  single  file  ;  it 
ended  at  a  brook,  where  a  log  formed  a  rude  bridge  leading  di- 
rectly to  the  island.  From  the  high  palisade,  around  which,  for 
greater  protection,  trees  and  brush  had  been  piled,  a  deadly  fire 
could  sweep  this  single  path.  But  the  eleven  hundred  men,  who 
have  gathered  to  inflict  a  decisive  blow  upon  the  hostilo  Indians, 
know  no  fear.  Death  is  certain  to  those  who  lead  the  attack, 
but  they  recall  the  saddened  homes,  perhaps  a  father,  a  brother, 
a  wife,  or  a  child  slain  by  the  hand  of  the  savage,  and  not  a  man 
flinches.  The  deadly  fire  opens  from  the  fort,  but  the  determii 
ed  men  rush  forward  so  quickly  that  when  the  Indian  has  shot 


142 


CAPTAIN   MILE6   STANDISH. 


one  man,  before  he  can  reload,  two  more  have  pressed  forward 
to  fill  their  dead  comrade's  place. 

Now  they  gain  the  barricade,  now  they  have  forced  their 
way  into  it.  Hand  to  hand,  sword  to  tomahawk,  the  battle  now 
rages  in  the  fort.  Step  by  step  the  Indians  are  pressed  back, 
until  at  last  they  turn  and  fly.  Climbing  over  the  high  palisade, 
their  light  footsteps  carry  them  through  the  marsh  in  which  the 
heavily  armed  white  man  would  sink  waist-deep,  and  they  es- 
cape in  the  woods.  The  Indian  women  and  children  are  in  the 
fort,  dumb  with  terror  and  grief.  Now,  high  into  the  winter  sky 
rise  the  flames,  consuming  the  wigwams,  and  even  the  corn  prov- 
ided for  the  winter.  Four  hundred  white  men  have  been  killed ; 


A  NARROW  BRIDGE  TO  VICTORY. 


of  the  three  thousand  Narragansetts,  a  miserable  remnant  has 
escaped;  according  to  the  account  of  one  of  their  number,  who 
was  among  those  saved,  seven  hundred 'were  killed,  and  three 
hundred  mortally  wounded.  By  some  authorities  the  loss  of  the 
whites  is  put  at  a  much  lower  figure  than  that  given,  but  the 
number  of  those  that  died  from  their  wounds  would  probably  re- 
move the  discrepancy.  Certain  it  is  that  this  blow  practically 
annihilated  the  treacherous  Narragansett  tribe3  the  chief  of  which 
had  made  a  treaty  with  the  whites  not  three  months  before  the 
storming  of  the  fort. 

Without  food  or  shelter,  exposed  to  all  the  fury  of  a  December 
snow-storm,  they  took  their  way  back  to  the  settlements,  bearing 


CAPTAIN   MILES   STANDlStt.  143 

their  wounded  with  them.  Canonchet,  the  treacherous  chief,  was 
captured,  and  urged  to  procure  a  treaty  of  peace  with  the  other 
Indians. 

"  The  Indians  will  never  stop  fighting/'  he  answered,  doggedly. 

"  You  are  condemned  to  death ;  this  is  your  only  chance  of  life." 

"I  shall  die  before  I  speak  anything  unworthy  of  myself." 

All  through  the  summer  of  1676  the  war  goes  on— steadily  the 
star  of  the  savage  chief  declines.  His  bravest  warriors  are  dead; 
he  is  losing  his  hold  over  the  tribes  around  him;  in  a  council  one 
of  his  men  speaks  of  peace  to  him.  He  knows  that  it  means  dis- 
grace, and  the  rash  counselor  dies  by  his  master's  own  hand. 
His  wife  and  child  are  captured. 

"Now  my  heart  breaks,  now  I  am  ready  to  die!"  exclaimed 
he  whose  name  had  so  long  been  the  terror  of  New  England's 
stern  people. 

From  that  same  council  went  forth  a  warrior  of  the  Wampan- 
oags  vowing  never  again  to  recognize  the  authority  of  the 'chief, 
never  to  stay  his  footsteps  until  the  white  man  should  be  on  that 
chiefs  track;  it  was  the  brother  of  the  murdered  man.  Straight 
to  the  English  camp  he  stole,  to  guide  the  soldiers  in  the  pursuit 
of  Philip. 

Dark  days  had  come  upon  Pometacom,  the  son  of  Massasoit, 
the  last  chief  of  the  Wampanoags.  Few  followers  remain  to  him 
— they  should  be  men,  but  they  have  the  hands  of  squaws  and  the 
hearts  of  serpents ;  they  will  not  fight,  they  plot  against  him. 
His  wife  and  child — who  can  tell  how  the  savage  loved  them  ? — 
have  been  sold  into  slavery  in  the  islands  far  out  in  the  ocean. 
There  is  no  hope  left  for  him.  Yet  still  ho  is  King  Philip  of 
Pokanoket,  sachem  of  the  Wampanoags  ;  and  with  a  strange  dig- 
nity of  feeling,  the  hopelessly  lost  man  goes  back  to  his  desola- 
ted home,  once  the  seat  of  his  power. 

On  the  night  of  August  11,  1676,  a  body  of  men  under  Captain 
Church  reached  Bristol  Neck,  which  connects  Mount  Hope  with 
the  mainland,  and  concealed  themselves  in  the  bushes.  Day  broke, 
and  the  Indians  seeing  themselves  closely  beset,  rushed  from 
their  hiding  places  in  great  disorder,  under  a  heavy  fire.  Every 
point  of  egress  from  the  marsh  where  they  had  lain  was  guard- 
ed. Past  one  point,  where  a  white  man  and  the  Indian  guide 
stood,  a  warrior  would  have  run ;  the  white  man's  gun  missed 
its  mark,  but  a  deadlier  hatred  aimed  the  traitor's,  for  the  fugi- 
tive was  Philip.  A  ball  pierced  his  heart,  and  he  fell  forward. 


CAPTAIN   MILES    STANDISH.  145 

King  Philip's  war  was  over.  Still  there  was  not  yet  an  end  to 
the  fighting.  The  flames  still  smouldered,  and  often  broke  out, 
until  the  few  Indians  who  survived  were  subdued  in  spirit,  and 
had  forgotten  the  traditions  of  their  race. 

For  twenty  years  the  head  of  Pometacom,  the  last  chief  of  the 
Wampanoags,  looked  from  the  gibbet  at  Plymouth  upon  the  land 
of  his  fathers,  that  he  had  sold  for  trifles  and  would  have  re- 
deemed with  blood  ;  a  ghastly  symbol  of  safety  to  those  who  suc- 
ceeded him  in  the  sovereignty,  of  his  native  land. 


CHAPTER  V. 

GEKEBAL  ISEAEL  PUTNAM. 

ON  the  road  between  Newburyport  and  Boston,  just  half-way 
between  the  two  places,  stands  an  old  farm-house  of  the 
better  class.  Fifty  years  is  the  age  assigned  to  the  newest  part, 
and  the  history  of  the  logs  which  form  a  part  of  it  dates  back  to 
- 1648.  When  first  built,  it  stood  in  the  wilderness,  and  the  sounds 
most  frequently  heard  were  the  sharp  and  ringing  blows  of  the 
axe  and  the  heavy  thud  of  the  falling  trees ;  while  the  war-whoop 
of  the  Indian  frightened  into  silence  the  birds'  songs.  Here,  in 
the  year  1718,  was  born  Israel  Putnam.  Of  his  early  years,  wo 
have  only  the  record  of  the  Town  Meeting,  showing  the  school 
accommodations  then  existing — few  and  slight.  The  roads  were 
so  dangerous,  and  the  clearings  so  far  apart,  that  even  as  late  as 
1725  it  was  unsafe  for  little  children  to  go  alone  to  school.  As  he 
grew  older,  his  father's  estate  would  have  enabled  him  to  attend 
one  of  the  academies  in  the  neighboring  towns,  but  he  loved  the 
tangled  and  howling  forest  better  than  the  closely  trimmed  hedges 
of  the  towns.  He  left  school  when  he  had  learned  to  write  a 
large,  round,  school-boy  hand,  and  before  he  had  become  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  mysteries  of  the  spelling-book,  or 
whatever  may  have  served  as  its  substitute. 

"Whatever  was  his  lack  of  school-training  (and  in  after  years 
he  was  much  ashamed  of  his  ignorance),  he  received  a  liberal  ed- 
ucation in  the  arts  of  the  forest;  and  his  courage  was  early  made 
manifest.  Yisiting  Boston  in  his  boyhood  with  some  relative,  a 
larger  boy  chaffed  him  for  some  time  upon  his  personal  appear- 
ance. He  bore  it  patiently  as  long  as  he  could,  but,  as  forbear- 
ance ceased  to  be  a  virtue,  turned  suddenly  upon  his  persecutor 
and  administered  a  sound  thrashing,  to  the  great  delight  of  all 
the  spectators.  We  may  believe  that  that  Boston  boy  was  in  the 
future  less  disposed  to  make  fun  of  rustics. 

On  one  occasion,  the  cool  daring  so  noticeable  in  his  after  life 
10 


148 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


was  made  manifest.  He  had  climbed  a  tree  to  possess  himself 
of  a  bird's-nest  upon  a  limb  many  feet  above  the  ground,  but  his 
clothes  caught  on  the  limb,  he  lost  his  balance,  and  hung  supported 
only  by  the  band  of  his  breeches.  There  was  a  boy  named  Randall 
in  the  group,  who  was  noted  for  being  a  crack  marksman,  and  who 
afterwards  fought  bravely  at  Putnam's  side.  Fortunately,  he  had 
his  loaded  rifle  with  him  on  this  occasion,  as  on  most  others. 

"Jim  Randall,    is  there   a 
ball  in  your  rifle  ?" 
"Yes." 

"Do  you  see  the  limb  that 
holds  me  here  ?" 
"I  do." 
"  Fire  at  it." 

"What,  to  cut  you  down?" 
"  Of  course.   For  what  else 
could  I  ask  it?" 

"  But  I  might  hit  your 
head." 

"  Shoot ;  better  blow  out 
my  brains  at  once,  than  see 
me  die  here  by  hanging,  as  I 
shall  in  fifteen  minutes.  Shoot, 
I  tell  you." 

"  But  you  will  fall." 
"  Will  you  fire  ?" 
Randall  brought  his  rifle  to 
his  shoulder ;  the  sharp  crack 
was  echoed  by  the  woods; 
the  splinters  flew ;  Putnam 
dropped  to  the  ground,  se- 
verely bruised  by  the  fall. 
Making  light  of  his  hurts, 
however,  he  continued  to  join 
Unwilling  to  give  up  anything 
once  undertaken,  he  returned  alone  a  few  days  afterward,  and 
secured  the  coveted  prize.  While  we  cannot  but  blame  his  rob- 
bery of  the  bird,  we  must  see  in  this  a  prophecy  of  the  days  to 
come  and  the  daring  deeds  for  which  he  would  be  famous. 

Married  at  the  age  of  twenty  or  twenty-one,  in  1740  he  removed 
to  Pomfret,  Connecticut,  a  tract  thirty-six  miles  from  Hartford, 


"SHOOT,  I  TELL  YOU!" 

in  the  sports  of  his  companions. 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  149 

and  on  the  Mohegan  river.  His  father  had  followed  that  wise 
custom  of  the  early  New  England  farmers,  of  dividing  a  large 
part  of  his  estate  among  his  children  as  they  grew  up ;  thus  se- 
curing to  each  one  a  means  of  earning  his  living  and  securing  a 
competency,  and  preventing  quarrels  over  his  property  after  his 
death.  After  the  lapse  of  a  very  few  years,  we  find  him  in  the 
enjoyment  of  a  comfortable  and  substantial  home,  his  clearings 
well  fenced  and  cultivated,  his  pastures  well  stocked,  and  his 
sheep-fold  the  pride  of  his  heart. 

With  numerous  flocks,  well  cared  for,  he  carried,  on  quite  an 
extensive  business  in  wool.  But  his  folds,  like  those  of  his 
neighbors,  suffered  heavily  from  the  depredations  of  a  wolf, 
that  for  many  years  annoyed  the  sheep-raisers.  Many  of  her 
cubs  had  been  killed,  but  the  old  wolf  had  grown  wary,  and 
though  once  she  had  set  her  foot  in  a  trap  and  lost  her  toes 
in  getting  loose,  she  had  succeeded  for  a  long  time  in  eluding 
her  pursuers.  At  length,  finding  the  nuisance  intolerable,  he 
entered  into  a  combination  with  five  of  his  neighbors,  to  watch 
and  hunt  alternately,  two  at  a  time,  and  never  to  abandon  the 
pursuit  until  she  was  destroyed.  Commencing  the  hunt  imme- 
diately after  a  light  fall  of  snow,  they  were  soon  on  a  trail  that 
could  not  be  mistaken.  Pursued  over  hill  and  valley,  through 
forest  and  brake  and  swamp,  at  the  Connecticut  the  wolf  turned 
back  in  a  direct  course  to  Pomfret,  still  closely  pursued  by  the 
vigilant  hunters.  Early  the  next  morning,  they  had  driven  her 
into  a  den,  about  three  miles  from  the  house  of  Mr.  Putnam;  and 
here  she  was  carefully  guarded  until  a  large  number  of  men  and 
boys  had  assembled,  with  dogs,  guns,  straw  and  sulphur,  pre- 
pared for  the  destruction  of  the  common  enemy. 

It  was  a  scene  of  general  and  great  excitement,  but  their  ex- 
pectations of  sport  bade  fair  to  be  disappointed.  The  instinct  of 
self-preservation  had  led  the  thief  to  a  retreat  where  she  could 
stand  an  obstinate  siege  and  defend  herself  with  a  bravery  and 
fierceness  quite  appalling.  Some  of  the  hounds,  excited  by  the 
chase,  and  eager  to  be  at  their  prey,  rushed  headlong  into  the 
cavern,  but  returned,  yelping  bitterly  and  covered  with  wounds; 
and  nothing  could  induce  them  to  return  to  the  charge.  The  at- 
tempt was  now  made  to  drive  her  out  by  another  means,  and  great 
volumes  of  smoke  rolled  into  the  cave  from  the  straw  set  on  fire 
at  its  mouth.  Failing  in  this,  they  tried  the  fumes  of  sulphur, 
but  with  no  better  result.  Either  the  wolf,  knowing  that  certain 


150  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

death  at  the  hands  of  her  enemies  awaited  her,  chose  to  die  in  the 
cave,  or  the  smoke  escaping  through  a  fissure  in  the  walls,  she 
suffered  less  than  they  thought.  At  any  rate,  their  efforts  pro ved 
fruitless  for  many  hours.  It  was  now  near  midnight,  and  unless 
they  soon  arrived  at  some  result,  their  efforts  would  prove  fruit- 
less; for  most  of  the  men  there  assembled  had  been  on  the  alert 
nearly  twenty  hours.  Another  effort  was  made  to  induce  the 
dogs  to  go  in,  but  without  success. 

"  Take  a  torch  and  gun,  and  go  into  the  cavern  and  shoot  the 
wolf,"suggested  Mr.  Putnam  to  a  servant.  But  the  man's  service 
did  not  require  him  to  undertake  such  dangerous  enterprises,  and 
he  declined  the  honor  to  be  won  at  such  hazard.  Finding  no  one 
who  was  willing  to  go,  and  declaring  he  was  ashamed  to  have 
such  a  coward  in  his  family,  Mr.  Putnam  at  once  resolved  to  enter 
himself.  His  neighbors  remonstrated,  but  in  vain  ;  he  was  bent 
on  accomplishing  the  death  of  the  victim  that  very  night,  lest  she 
should  escape  by  some  unknown  passage,  and  achieve  her  safety 
by  one  sudden,  desperate  rush  past  the  sentinels. 

Knowing  the  instinctive  dread  of  fire  which  all  wild  animals 
have,  he  provided  himself  with  strips  of  birch-bark  as  a  substi- 
tute for  torches,  and  without  any  weapon,  went  to  reconnoiter. 
Through  a  passage  that  was  at  no  point  high  enough  for  a  man 
to  stand  upright,  or  more  than  three  feet  wide,  he  crawled  on 
hands  and  knees.  Smooth  and  solid  rocks  lined  the  cavity,  the 
mouth  of  which  is  about  two  feet  square;  and  a  distance  of  more 
than  forty  feet  must  be  traversed  before  he  could  reach  his  goal. 
From  time  to  time  his  torch  must  be  rekindled,  or  he  would  be 
left  in  utter  darkness,  and  at  the  mercy  of  the  wild  beast  he  was 
seeking.  Part  of  the  surface  was  a  descent,  about  one-fourth  was 
level,  and  the  remaining  sixteen  feet  a  gradual  ascent.  As  he 
reached  the  farther  end  of  the  horizontal  passage,  he  could  see 
nothing  but  the  darkness  around  him,  made  visible  by  the  little 
circle  of  light  surrounding  his  torch.  Creeping  cautiously  on- 
ward, he  saw  the  eyes  of  the  wolf  gleaming  like  fire  through  the 
darkness,  and  heard  her  gnash  her  teeth  and  growl  as  the  light 
of  the  torch  was  seen.  Giving  the  signal  agreed  upon,  a  kick  at 
the  rope  fastened  to  his  foot,  he  was  hastily  drawn  back  to  his 
anxious  friends.  The  return  was  not  without  its  disadvantages, 
for  his  clothes  were  torn  and  his  flesh  badly  lacerated. 

Loading  his  gun,  and  taking  another  handful  of  his  impro- 
vised torches,  he  again  descended  into  the  narrow  cave.  Encum- 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  151 

bered  with  his  musket,  his  progress  was  of  course  much  slower 
than  before,  but  his  knowledge  of  the  way,  and  being  armed, 
made  it  safer.  Howling,  rolling  her  eyes,  snapping  her  teeth, 
and  dropping  her  head  between  her  legs,  the  wolf  was  evidently 
on  the  point  of  springing  at  her  assailant.  At  this  critical  mo- 
ment he  levelled  his  piece,  aiming  directly  at  her  head,  and 
fired.  Stunned  with  the  shock,  and  almost  suffocated  by  the 
smoke  of  the  powder,  he  found  himself,  in  a  few  moments,  again 
drawn  out  of  the  cave,  though  more  gently  than  before. 


PUTNAM  IN   THE  WOLF'S  CAVE. 

Being  refreshed  by  the  cold,  pure  air  outside  of  the  cavern,  ho 
went  down  for  the  third  time,  in  order  to  bring  away  his  pri/.o. 
There,  in  the  innermost  recess  of  the  long  cavern,  lay  tho 
dreaded  animal  in  a  pool  of  her  own  blood,  perfectly  insensible 
to  the  flame  of  his  torch.  Seizing  her  by  the  ears  and  givir 
the  usual  signal  to  his  friends,  he  was  again  drawn  out,  dragging 
the  carcass  with  him. 

As  he  emerged  into  the  air  with  tho  body  of  that  foarfu 
ture  which  had  so  long  been  the  terror  and  scourge  of  their  fields, 


152  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

he  was  greeted  with  a  shout  which  reassured  the  waiting,  tremb- 
ling wives  and  mothers  at  home.  It  echoed  through  the  woods, 
and  was  heard  far  and  near.  The  brave  victor  was  escorted  in 
triumph  to  his  home,  with  the  trophy  of  his  valor  borne  before 
him  on  a  litter,  and  the  troop  of  volunteers  was  provided  with 
as  generous  a  smoking  hot  supper  as  time  would  allow. 

Putnam's  agreeable  manner,  generous  spirit  and  uniform  good 
humor  had  already  secured  him  the  affection  of  his  neighbors, 
while  his  integrity,  good  sense  and  enterprise  had  obtained  their 
esteem.  It  does  not  take  a  very  remarkable  deed  to  make  such 
a  man  a  popular  hero ;  his  exploit  in  the  wolf 's  den  was  more 
than  sufficient,  and  the  story  spread  far  and  near,  gaining  as  it 
went.  It  was  said  that  the  den  was  full  of  wolves ;  that  it  con- 
tained  a  bear  and  her  two  cubs ;  the  difficulty  of  access,  great  as 
it  was,  was  exaggerated ;  and  the  newspapers  of  England  and 
France  copied  the  story  as  thus  told. 

This  adventure,  and  others  in  his  military  experience,  gave 
him  the  reputation  of  thoughtless  daring.  The  truth  was,  that 
his  mind  was  quickly  made  up  as  to  the  possibility  and  necessity 
of  acting  in  a  certain  way,  and  paving  by  quick  and  accurate 
perceptions  arrived  at  conclusions  which  other  men  reached  by 
slow  and  painful -reasoning,  he  lost  no  time  in  carrying  the 
quickly  formed  resolution  into  effect.  Quick  as  a  woman  in  see- 
ing what  ought  to  be  done,  he  was  brave  and  strong  as  a  man 
in  doing  it. 

His  reputation  grew  as  the  years  passed  on,  and  his  courage 
was  shown  by  acts  only  less  adventurous  and  daring  than  the 
killing  of  the  wolf.  When  the  French  and  Indian  War  broke 
out  in  1755,  he  was  commissioned  captain  of  volunteers,  though 
he  had  never  seen  a  day's  service  as  a  soldier.  Nor  did  he  have 
any  difficulty  in  obtaining  recruits;  around  the  standard  of 
"the  old  wolf,"  as  he  was  often  called,  flocked  his  personal  friends 
and  admirers ;  not  the  outcasts,  the  vagabonds  or  the  floating 
population,  but  hardy,  industrious,  respectable  young  men,  the 
very  flower  of  the  Connecticut  farmers.  None  of  them  had  been 
educated  as  soldiers,  or  had  had  such  experience,  but  bold  hearts, 
strong  arms  and  trust  in  their  captain  made  the  work  far  easier 
than  to  the  mere  soldier  of  fortune. 

Although  this  company  was  not  specially  designated  as  ran- 
gers, but  attached  to  the  regular  army,  its  duty  was  of  the  hardy, 
bold  and  adventurous  character  usually  performed  by  such  a  corps. 


ISRAEL   i>UttfAM.  163 

This  work  was  peculiarly  suited,  not  only  to  the  men,  but  to  their 
commander.  In  the  active  and  perilous  duty  of  reconnoitering 
the  enemy's  posts,  surprising  their  pickets,  cutting  off  or  captur- 
ing detached  parties,  waylaying  convoys  of  provisions,  he  found 
ample  employment  for  his  spirit  of  restless  enterprise,  as  well 
as  room  for  the  exercise  of  those  powers  of  invention  and  strat- 
agem for  which  he  was  distinguished. 

The  French  and  Indian  war  was  peculiar  in  its  requirements 
of  soldiers.  Nearly  all  the  Indians  were  enlisted  on  the  French 
side,  and  the  mountains,  the  forests,  the  river  banks,  the  shores 
and  inlets  of  the  lakes  were  all  infested  with  straggling  parties 
of  these  ruthless  marauders,  whose  stealthy  movements  render- 
ed them  peculiarly  formidable  to  the  soldiery.  Nor  were  they 
less  dreadful  to  the  settlers,  who  were  frequently  surprised  in 
their  homes  by  prowling  savages ;  and  many  are  the  tales  that 
might  be  told  of  children  carried  away  into  captivity,  of  others 
slain  before  their  homes.  Skulking  in  every  thicket,  in  the  out- 
skirts of  every  wood,  they  were  always  ready  to  spring  upon  the 
foe.  Often  the  English  soldiers  fell  by  an  unseen  hand,  often  they 
were  slain  before  they  could  defend  themselves.  This  was  the 
lesson  which  the  leaders  of  the  army  had  to  learn,  a  lesson  writ- 
ten in  blood  in  the  very  beginning  of  the  war. 

General  Braddock  had  set  out  to  the  west  to  establish  a  chain 
of  communication  from  Quebec  to  New  Orleans ;  sending  from 
time  to  time  despatches  to  the  authorities  that  after  such  an  un- 
dertaking, which  would  require  so  many  days,  he  would  proceed 
to  the  next  point.  "'After  taking  Fort  Duquesne,  I  am  to  proceed 
to  Niagara,  and  having  taken  that,  to  Frontenac.  Duquesne  can 
hardly  detain  me  more  than  three  or  four  days."  In  reply  to 
cautions  regarding  ambuscades,  he  replied  contemptuously  that 
though  the  savages  might  be  formidable  to  the  raw  American 
militia,  they  would  make  no  impression  on  the  king's  regulars. 
Approaching  Fort  Duquesne,  the  scouts  brought  information  of 
an  ambuscade  of  Indians  and  French  in  the  forest.  The^young 
aid,  Colonel  George  Washington,  advised  a  course  which  his 
experience  in  dealing  with  the  Indians  suggested. 

"High  times/'  said  Braddock,  with  an  oath,  "when  a  young 
buckskin  is  to  teach  a  British  general  how  to  fight." 

The  army  advanced  into  the  forest  with  all  the  pomp  and 
cumstance  of  war,  only  to  hear  the  sharp  crack  of  rifles  echoed 
and  re-echoed  from  every  side.    Not  a  foe  was  in  sight.    Tho  ar- 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  155 

tillery  was  directed  hither,  thither;  the  soldiers  fired  at  random ; 
while  into  their  own  compact  ranks  poured  a  deadly  fire.  The 
wild  yell  of  the  invisible  enemy  struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  the 
king's  regulars ;  and  while  the  officers  used  every  effort  to  en- 
courage the  men  to  move  forward  and  dislodge  the  enemy  from 
his  shelter,  their  endeavors  were  in  vain.  Sullenly  the  troops 
refused  to  obey,  here  and  there  a  yet  more  rebellious  spirit  in 
the  rear  fired  upon  the  officers  who  urged  them  forward.  Brad- 
dock  was  fatally  wounded,  his  two  English  aids  killed,  while  the 
young  American  was  singled  out  as  a  mark  by  more  than  one  rifle- 
man. "  Some  powerful  Manitou  guarded  his  life,"  said  a  Shawnee 
chief,  who  averred  that  he  had  fired  seventeen  shots  at  him;  two 
horses  were  killed  under  him,  and  four  balls  penetrated  his  coat; 
yet  he  escaped  unhurt.  The  regulars,  what  there  was  left  of  them, 
broke  and  ran  like  sheep.  The  forest  field  of  battle  was  left  thick- 
ly strewn  with  the  dead  and  dying ;  never  had  there  been  such 
a  harvest  of  scalps  and  spoils ;  and  as  evening  approached,  the 
forest  rang  with  the  exultant  shouts  and  yells  of  the  victors. 

It  was  just  after  Braddock's  defeat  had  created  consternation 
throughout  the  colonies  that  Sir  William  Johnson  undertook  an 
expedition  against  Crown  Point  and  other  French  strongholds 
in  the  region  of  Lake  Champlain.  Here  it  was  that  Captain 
Putnam  entered  upon  that  great  theater  of  honorable  strife  and 
hazardous  adventure,  where  he  won  those  enduring  laurels,  that 
crown  his  memory.  Fort  Edward,  built  and  held  by  the  English, 
was  unsuccessfully  attacked  by  the  French  with  their  Indian  allies; 
and  the  remainder  of  the  season  was  passed  by  Johnson's  forces 
in  completing  the  intrenchments  around  the  camp,  only  occasional 
skirmishes  between  foraging  and  scouting  parties  taking  place. 
Here,  sometimes  in  company  with  Captain,  afterward  Major 
Eogers,  sometimes  alone,  Putnam  was  employed  in  reconnoiter- 
ing  the  enemy's  lines,  gaining  intelligence  of  his  movements, 
taking  straggling  prisoners,  and  surprising  the  advance  pickets 
of  their  army.  The  first  time  the  two  captains  went  out  together, 
jt  was  the  fortune  of  Putnam  to  save  the  life  of  Eogers,  a  service 
afterward  requited  with  the  utmost  ingratitude. 

They  had  been  sent  out  to  obtain  an  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  position  of  the  enemy,  and  the  strength  of  his  fortifications 
at  Crown  Point;  but  the  situation  of  the  fort  made  it  impossible 
to  approach  it  with  their  whole  party.  The  two  leaders,  how- 
ever, determined  not  to  return  without  an  attempt  to  effect  their 


156  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

purpose,  and  concealed  their  men,  with  strict  orders  to  remain  in 
hiding  until  their  return.  Creeping  stealthily  forward,  under  cover 
of  the  darkness,  they  reached  the  vicinity  of  the  fortress,  and 
lay  hidden  there  until  morning.  Early  the  following  day  they 
came  nearer,  and  having  completed  their  observations,  were 
about  to  return  to  their  men,  when  Rogers,  who  was  a  short  dis- 
tance from  Putnam,  suddenly  encountered  a  Frenchman.  Instant- 
ly giving  the  alarm  to  the  nearest  guard,  the  Frenchman  seized 
Rogers'  fusee  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  made  an  effort 
to  stab  him.  A  desperate  struggle  followed.  The  guard  an- 
swered the  call,  and  the  whole  garrison  would  soon  be  down  up- 
on them.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  yet  a  shot  would  only  increase 
their  danger.  "With  the  rapidity  of  action  for  which  he  was  fa- 
mous, Putnam  sprang  at  the  Frenchman,  and  with  one  blow 
of  the  butt-end  of  his  musket,  laid  him  dead  at  his  feet.  "With  the 
utmost  speed  they  fled  to  the  mountains,  rejoined  their  party, 
and  returned  to  the  camp  without  further  incident. 

The  fortress  of  Crown  Point  being  too  strong  to  be  attacked, 
and  the  season  being  now  far  advanced,  the  colonial  troops,  who 
had  only  enlisted  for  the  campaign,  were  disbanded,  and  Captain 
Putnam  returned  to  the  quiet  scenes  of  domestic  life  upon  his 
thrifty  farm,  where  his  fifteen-year-old  son  had  been  left  in  charge. 
Reappointed  to  his  old  command  in  the  following  year,  when  it 
was  again  resolved  to  reduce  Fort  Duquesne  and  Crown  Point,  he 
was  given  much  the  same  kind  of  duties  to  perform.  It  was  in 
this  latter  enterprise  that  Captain  Putnam  was  engaged ;  and 
although  it  was  a  season  of  inactivity  for  the  main  body,  he  had 
plenty  of  stirring  incidents  in  this  part  of  his  experience. 

Appointed  to  reconnoiter  the  enemy's  camp  near  Ticonderoga, 
he  took  Lieutenant  Durkee  with  him  as  a  companion.  Ignorance 
of  the  difference  between  the  English  and  French  methods  of  ar- 
ranging their  camps  had  nearly  proved  fatal  to  them.  The  Eng- 
lish were  accustomed  to  kindle  their  camp-fires  along  the  outer 
lines  of  their  encampment,  thus  laying  open  the  whole  extent  of 
the  camp  to  the  view  of  the  enemy's  scouts  and  patrols,  and  fre- 
quently exposing  the  sentinels  to  be  picked  off  by  expert  marks- 
men. The  French  and  Indians,  on  the  other  hand,  kindled  their 
fires  in  the  center,  lodged  their  men  at  a  distance,  and  posted 
their  circle  of  sentinels  in  the  surrounding  darkness.  Supposing 
that  the  French  sentries  were  within  the  circle  of  the  fires,  the 
bold  scouts  crept  to  the  camp,  using  the  utmost  caution,  and  sud- 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  157 

denly,  to  their  great  surprise,  found  themselves  in  the  very  midst 
of  the  enemy.  The  sentinels,  almost  at  the  same  moment  that 
the  scouts  perceived  their  predicament,  saw  by  the  light  of  the 
fire  that  some  one  had  passed  unchallenged,  and  one  of  them 
fired,  slightly  wounding  Durkee  in  the  thigh. 

Instant  flight  was  the  only  alternative.  Putnam,  turning  away 
from  the  glare  of  the  fire,  could  hardly  see  his  hand  before  him 
in  the  blackness  of  the  night,  and  soon  plunged  into  a  clay-pit. 
Beside  him,  as  he  was  groping  his  way  to  the  farther  side,  fell 
another  man,  whom  he  was  about  to  strike  down,  when  he 
recognized  Durkee's  voice,  asking  him  if  he  had  escaped  unhurt. 
[Rejoicing  at  their  safety,  they  gained  the  farther  side,  and  spring- 
ing from  the  pit,  made  good  their  retreat  through  a  leaden  hail 
that  the  French  sentinels  poured  at  random  into  the  forest.  Under 
the  lee  of  a  large  log,  they  found  shelter  for  the  night. 

"  I've  a  little  rum  in  my  canteen,"  said  Putnam  to  his  compan- 
ion; "  let  us  drink  to  the  confusion  of  those  French  sentinels." 

The  canteen  was  produced,  but  alas  for  his  generous  intention  ! 
A  bullet  had  pierced  the  tin,  and  there  was  not  a  drop  of  liquor 
there.  'Nor  was  this  the  only  evidence  of  his  narrow  escape,  for 
on  examining  his  blanket,  the  next  day,  fourteen  bullet-holes 
were  found. 

"While  encamped  at  this  point,  the  sentinel  at  a  certain  post 
had  been  picked  off  night  after  night;  the  best  and  bravest 
soldiers  had  volunteered  to  stand  guard  at  this  post  of  honor, 
because  of  danger,  and  had  shared  the  same  fate;  in  the  morn- 
ing, it  was  always  found  deserted.  At  last  it  came  to  be  looked 
upon  as  suicidal  to  venture  on  duty  at  that  place,  and  men  hesi- 
tated, and  refused  to  go.  The  commander  was  about  to  fill  the  place 
by  lot,  when  Captain  Putnam,  whose  position  as  a  commissioned 
officer  excused  him  from  all  such  duties,  solicited  the  honor  of 
standing  guard  there  for  the  night.  His  offer  was  promptly 
accepted. 

"  If  you  hear  any  noise  from  without  the  lines,"  the  command- 
ing ofiicer  instructed  him,  as  all  other  sentinels  had  previously 
been,  you  will  call  '  Who  goes  there?'  three  times,  and  then,  if 
no  answer  be  given,  fire. 

Captain  Putnam  listened  with  the  respect  duo  to  his  superior 
ofiicer,  and  set  out  to  his  post.     Every  tree  and  shrub  and  rock 
in  the  neighborhood  was  carefully  examined,  and  an  exact  phot< 
graph  of  the  whole  scene  fixed  in  his  mind,  before  he  settled  down 


158  GENERAL  ISRAEL  tUTNAM. 

to  the  tramp,  tramp,  backward  and  forward,  through  the  live-long 
night,  or  until  he  should  meet  the  fate  of  his  predecessors.  It  was 
midnight,  and  only  the  sound  of  his  own  footsteps  or  the  rust- 
ling of  trees  in  the  wind  had  as  yet  broken  the  silence.  Listen  ! 
In  the  grass  a  slight  rustling,  as  if  some  animal  drew  near;  then 
a  crackling  sound,  as  if  it  had  found  food  and  were  munching 
it.  [Raising  his  musket  to  his  shoulder,  and  aiming  at  the  spot 
where  the  noise  was  heard,  he  called  out: 

"  Who  goes  there  three  times  ?"  and  instantly  fired.  The  sound 
of  his  shot  had  not  died  away  before  he  heard  a  deep  groan — the 
last  breath  of  the  burly  Indian  who  had  made  this  post  fatal  to 
less  wary  sentinels.  From  that  time  forward,  the  guards  at  that 
point  were  free  from  molestation. 

At  some  time  during  the  summer,  Captains  Putnam  and  Rogers 
were  ordered  to  embar,k  with  a  force  of  one  hundred  volunteers 
and  a  suitable  supply  of  arms,  and  proceed  down  Lake  George 
to  intercept  a  large  party  of  the  enemy  that  had  attacked  and 
plundered  an  American  detachment  in  charge  of  a  provision  train. 
The  force  of  the  enemy  amounted  to  about  six  hundred  men. 
Nothing  daunted,  however,  by  their  inferiority  of  numbers,  the 
two  leaders  executed  their  orders  with  so  much  spirit  as  to  arrive 
at  the  designated  point  before  the  hostile  boats  came  in  view. 
Concealed  in  the  woods,  they  waited  until  the  enemy  entered  the 
narrows,  and  then  opened  upon  his  boats  a  murderous  fire.  Yolley 
after  volley  was  poured  upon  them,  many  of  the  oarsmen  being 
killed,  many  of  the  boats  sunk.  A  strong  wind  swept  some  of 
the  vessels  through  the  narrows  and  thus  enabled  them  to  escape 
from  the  guns  of  their  assailants,  reporting  the  disaster  at  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  giving  information  that  Putnam  and  Rogers  were  at 
the  narrows  with  a  large  force  of  colonial  troops. 

Three  hundred  fresh  troops,  whites  and  Indians,  were  thereupon 
despatched  to  cut  off  this  party  before  it  should  reach  Fort  Ed- 
ward, a  measure  anticipated  by  the  American  leaders.  Although 
the  latter  were  fully  twenty  miles  from  their  boats,  they  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  them  before  night,  and  were  soon  moving 
briskly  down  the  lake.  On  the  following  day,  however,  they  were 
sighted  by  the  French,  who,  flushed  with  the  hope  of  certain  vic- 
tory, advanced  boldly  and  confidently  to  the  attack.  They  were 
permitted  to  come  within  pistol  shot  before  a  gun  was  fired;  then, 
with  deadly  aim,  a  broadside  was  poured  upon  them.  The  volley 
from  the  larger  pieces  was  followed  by  the  discharge  of  the  mus- 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


159 


kets,  and  this  alternation  was  continued,  making  such  dreadful 
havoc  that  the  French,  having  never  recovered  from  the  first  dis- 
mayed surprise,  did  not  make  even  an  effort  to  rally.  Every 
volley  carried  death  into  their  ranks,  and  the  boats,  crippled  and 
shattered,  laden  with  the  wounded  and  the  dying,  were  nrged 
through  the  bloody  waters  back  to  Ticondcroga.  In  the  two  en- 
gagements, fully  five  hundred  of  the  French  and  Indians  were  kill- 
ed, while  the  Americans  lost  only  one  man,  two  being  wounded. 

The  services  upon  which 
Captain  Putnam  was  gen- 
erally employed  were  not 
usually,  however,  those  of 
such  note  as  this  described. 
Planned  and  executed  in 
secret,  their  success  de- 
pended  largely  upon  the 
maintenance  of  this  se- 
crecy. The  movements  of 
an  army,  the  fate  of  a  bat- 
tle, may  often  depend  upon 
the  information  given  by 
a  scout  whose  name  re- 
mains unknown,  whose 
services  are  never  record- 
ed, unless  by  himself. 
Putnam  kept  no  journal, 
so  that  the  few  accounts  of  his  work  preserved  in  the  orderly 
books,  some  stories  that  found  their  way  into  the  newspapers, 
or  were  told  by  friend  to  friend  and  thus  preserved  for  years, 
are  all  that  remain  as  a  clue  to  his  popularity  with  the  soldiers, 
the  respect  with  which  his  superior  officers  regarded  him,  and 
the  general  and  strong  opinion  that  he  was  destined  to  become 
distinguished  in  a  broader  field  of  action. 

One  incident  of  this  campaign  will  show  the  danger  and  value 
of  his  duties.  Sent  out  with  five  men,  to  take  a  prisoner  from 
whom  information  of  the  strength  and  designs  of  the  enemy 
might  be  obtained,  he  found,  on  approaching  the  camp,  a  suit- 
able place  of  concealment  in  a  thicket  near  the  road.  His  men 
were  very  unwilling  to  hide  themselves  here,  ascribing  their 
leader's  caution  to  cowardice,  and  it  was  only  with  difficulty  that 
he  prevented  them  from  exposing  themselves  in  such  a  way  as 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


160  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

would  have  entirely  defeated  the  object  of  the  expedition,  and 
added  very  much  to  its  danger.  He  succeeded,  however,  in  en- 
forcing his  commands,  and  the  party  had  not  been  long  in  the 
covert  before  an  opportunity  presented  itself.  An  Indian,  follow- 
ed at  a  short  distance  by  a  Frenchman,  passed  them.  Waiting 
until  the  former  was  far  enough  from  his  comrade  to  render  as- 
sistance improbable,  Putnam  sprang  from  the  thicket,  ordering 
his  men  to  follow.  A  run  of  thirty  yards  brought  him  to  the 
Frenchman,  whom  he  seized  by  the  shoulder  and  called  upon  to 
surrender.  The  Frenchman  looked  around,  and  seeing  but  one 
assailant,  and  knowing  that  the  Indian  could  return  in  a  few  mo- 
ments, resisted.  Putnam's  men,  so  brave  when  no  danger  threat- 
ened, had  failed  to  obey  his  call.  Thus  betrayed  into  a  most  per- 
ilous situation,  he  stepped  backward  a  few  paces,  and  levelled 
his  musket  at  the  Frenchman.  It  missed  fire.  The  Frenchman 
saw  his  advantage,  and  giving  the  alarm  to  his  Indian  comrade, 
sprang  furiously  upon  Putnam,  who  judged  it  prudent  to  retreat. 
Drawing  his  enemy  off  toward  the  point  where  his  men  were 
posted,  he  still  hoped  to  make  the  desired  capture,  and  the 
Frenchman  would  have  fallen  into  their  hands  if  they  had  not 
shown  themselves  too  soon.  The  alarm  had  been  given,  and  it 
was  now  a  dangerous  place  for  the  scouts,  so  they  retreated  in 
all  haste  to  the  camp.  There  Captain  Putnam  dismissed  his  men 
in  disgrace,  and  selecting  a  party  upon  which  he  could  place 
more  reliance,  set  forth  again  on  the  same  hazardous  errand; 
this  time  with  more  success. 

"We  need  not  follow  the  elaborate  preparations  made  in  the  suc- 
ceeding year  by  the  commander-in-chief,  Lord  Loudon,  for  an 
expedition  against  Louisburg.  The  idea  was  abandoned  when  a 
French  fleet  arrived  with  large  reinforcements  for  the  garrison, 
and  the  general  returned  to  JSTew  York.  The  French  general, 
Montcalm,  determined  to  make  a  bold  push  to  secure  the  entire 
possession  of  Lake  George,  defended  by  the  garrisons  of  Forts 
William  Henry  and  Edward.  Having  acted  as  escort  to  General 
Webb  from  Fort  Edward  to  William  Henry,  Putnam,  now  commis- 
sioned Major  by  the  Connecticut  Legislature,  proposed  to  go 
down  the  lake  and  reconnoiter  the  enemy's  position.  After  some 
delay,  permission  was  granted,  but  a  force  of  eighteen  was  given 
him,  instead  of  the  five  that  he  had  desired.  Embarking  in 
three  whale-boats,  and  intending  to  land  in  Northwest  Bay,  they 
discovered,  before  arriving  there,  a  large  body  of  the  enemy  upon 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  161 

an  island.  Leaving  two  boats  with  directions  to  lie  to,  as  if  for 
the  purpose  of  fishing,  Putnam  returned  in  the  other  to  inform 
the  general  of  the  danger  which  threatened  the  garrison.  Gen. 
Webb  did  not  wish  Major  Putnam  to  return  for  the  rest  of  his 
party,  but  his  urgency  overcame  the  general's  fear,  and  he  was 
reluctantly  accorded  permission.  On  the  return  of  his  escort, 
the  valiant  commander  left  Port  "William  Henry,  sending  the 
next  day  a  reinforcement  to  sustain  the  attack  of  the  seven 
thousand  French  and  Canadian  soldiers,  and  the  two  thousand 
Indians,  that  arrived  the  day  after  the  reinforcement  invested 
the  fortress.  Eecalling  a  further  force  of  volunteers  even  after 
their  departure,  a  detachment  which  would  have  defeated  the 
French,  since  the  information  that  it  was  on  the  way  made  them 
prepare  to  raise  the  siege,  it  seemed  that  Gen.  Webb  deliberately 
left  Fort  William  Henry  to  its, terrible  fate.  Fortunately  for  the 
safety  of  our  northern  border,  he  was  soon  superseded  by  an 
officer  who  wished  to  defend  Fort  Edward,  which  Webb  would 
have  surrendered  without  a  shot  fired  in  defense. 

A  party  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  were  sent  into  the  neigh- 
boring forest  to  cut  timber  for  the  fort,  since  Gen.  Lyman  had  re- 
solved to  strengthen  its  defenses  ;  a  force  of  fifty  British  regulars 
being  posted  about  one  hundred  rods  east  of  the  fort  to  protect 
them.  A  narrow  causeway  from  their  station  to  the  fort  had  on 
one  side  a  morass,  on  the  other  a  small  creek.  A  large  body  of 
Indians  concealed  themselves,  under  cover  of  night,  in  the  swamp; 
arrow  after  arrow  was  aimed  at  the  sentinel,  that,  with  the  guard 
killed  by  a  noiseless  weapon,  a  surprise  might  be  possible ;  one 
quivers  in  the  tree  just  over  his  head,  and  he  gives  the  alarm;  a 
sudden  rush  from  the  covert,  the  Indians  doubly  enraged  by  the 
failure  of  their  plans;  the  unarmed  laborers  nearest  to  them  are 
shot  or  tomakawked,  and  the  survivors  fly  in  dismay  towards 
the  fort.  A  well-timed  and  spirited  fire  from  the  soldiers  checks 
the  pursuit,  but  the  little  party  of  defenders  is  almost  overpow- 
ered, and  the  captain  sends  to  the  fort  for  a  reinforcement.  It  is 
a  cruel  thing  to  do,  but  the  commander  feels  it  must  be  done;  a 
general  attack  will  doubtless  follow  this;  outposts  are  called  in, 
gates  are  shut,  and  the  little  band,  fighting  in  the  forest,  is  left  to 
its  fate. 

Major  Putnam,  with  his  corps  of  rangers,  was  stationed  at  on 
of  the  outposts,  and  as  soon  as  he  heard  from  his  runners  of  the 
dangerous  situation  of  Captain  Little,  hastened  to  his  assistance. 


162  GENERAL  ISRAEL   PUTNAM. 

Passing  near  the  fort  on  his  way,  he  was  ordered  by  Gen.  Lyman 
to  proceed  no  farther.  "Willing  to  risk  not  only  his  life,  but  his 
standing,  to  rescue  his  comrade,  he  made  a  brief  apology,  and 
hurried  on  to  the  scene  of  action  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 
They  make  their  way  to  where  the  little  force  of  regulars  main- 
tains its  ground  with  desperate  courage;  to  the  music  of  their 
own  shouts  they  charge  impetuously  into  the  swamp  ;  the  Indians, 
surprised,  confused,  terrified,  fly  in  every  direction,  and  are  pur- 
sued with  dreadful  slaughter ;  only  one  white  man  falls  during 
the  chase,  and  his  slayer  sleeps  not  ten  feet  from  where  he  fired 
the  fatal  shot. 

According  to  the  usages  of  war,  Putnam  should  have  been 
court-martialed  for  disobedience  of  orders;  a  fault  in  a  soldier 
which  no  brave  achievement  or  brilliant  success  can  palliate;  but 
for  some  reason,  Gen.  Lyman  chose  to  consider  that  he  had  given 
a  piece  of  advice,  and  not  a  command ;  and  commending  the  good 
conduct  of  the  men,  welcomed  them,  with  hearty  good  will,  to 
their  quarters. 

Putnam's  heroism  was  destined,  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  to 
save  the  garrison  from  a  danger  as  fatal  as  delivery  into  the  hands 
of  the  Indians.  A  fire  broke  out  in  the  barracks,  twelve  feet  from 
which  stood  a  magazine  containing  fifteen  tons  of  powder ;  and 
had  so  far  advanced  before  it  was  discovered  as  to  almost  bid  de- 
fiance to  every  effort  to  extinguish  it.  An  endeavor  to  level  the 
barracks  by  bringing  heavy  artillery  to  bear  upon  them,  in  the 
hope  that  the  supports  would  be  cut,  was  in  vain ;  the  flames 
continued  to  spread  with  great  rapidity.  Major  Putnam  saw  the 
smoke  and  heard  the  alarm  at  the  outpost  where  he  was  stationed, 
and  hastened  to  the  assistance  of  the  garrison.  At  his  suggestion, 
a  line  of  soldiers  was  posted  to  pass  water  to  him,  as,  enveloped 
by  the  smoke,  and  close  to  the  flames,  he  distributed  it  upon  the 
burning  rafters  with  a  perseverance  that  had  well-nigh  cost  him 
his  life.  Notwithstanding  his  efforts,  the  fire  raged  with  a  violence 
that  threatened  to  be  uncontrollable,  and  began  to  shoot  out  fear- 
fully toward  the  magazine.  But  the  efforts  of  the  garrison  were  at 
last  successful,  and  although  Putnam  was  surrounded  by  a  cloud 
of  smoke,  in  a  shower  of  cinders,  singed  and  scorched  on  every 
side,  he  maintained  his  position  near  the  magazine,  pouring  water 
upon  the  frail  wooden  partition,  charred  and  smoking,  that  sepa- 
rated the  flames  from  the  powder. 

For  an  hour  and  a  half  Major  Putnam  had  contended  with  the 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  163 

destroying  element,  standing  so  close  to  the  flames  that  thick 
blanket  mittens  were  burned  from  his  hands.  Several  weeks 
passed  before  he  recovered  from  the  effects  of  this  terrible  ex- 
posure ;  but  his  intense  sufferings  lightened  by  the  grateful  atten- 
tions of  the  officers  and  soldiers  whose  lives  he  had  saved. 

Passing  lightly  over  the  events  of  the  early  part  of  the  next 
campaign,  where  there  are  but  few  personal  adventures  record- 
ed of  our  hero,  except  the  courage  displayed  at  the  disastrous 
siege  of  Ticonderoga,  we  find  several  stories  of  little  importance, 
but  still  interesting.  One  day,  as  he  chanced  to  be  in  a  boat  with  a 
few  men  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Hudson,  he  was  suddenly  warned 
by  signals  from  the  opposite  shore  that  a  large  number  of  Indians 
was  in  his  rear  and  would  be  upon  him  almost  immediately. 
Before  him  lay  the  rapids  ;  to  remain  where  he  was,  or  to  cross 
the  river  exposed  to  the  deadly  aim  of  the  Indian  rifles, — such 
were  the  dangers  between  which  he  had  to  choose.  Deciding 
quickly  upon  trying  the  rapids,  the  Indians  came  up  before  the 
boat  was  well  under  way,  and  one  man  was  killed  as  they  fired  a 
number  of  balls.  The  swiftness  of  the  current  soon  carried  them 
out  of  musket-shot,  but  only,  as  they  thought,  to  devote  them  to 
death  among  the  sharp  rocks  and  abrupt  descents  among  which 
their  boat  flew.  "While  his  companions  looked  in  terror  at  the 
dangers  by  which  they  were  surrounded,  Putnam  calmly  took 
the  helm,  and  guided  the  frail  vessel  among  the  foaming,  whirl- 
ing eddies  of  the  stream.  Now  the  sides  are  exposed  to  the  fury 
of  the  waves,  now  the  stern,  next  the  bow  glances  obliquely  on- 
ward with  inconceivable  rapidity ;  now  it  mounts  the  billows, 
now  it  sinks  abruptly  down ;  now  it  is  dexterously  turned  from 
the  rocks,  and  plunges  down  the  narrow  passage  to  the  smooth, 
safe  waters  below ;  while  the  wondering  Indians,  descrying  his 
success  from  afar,  and  fully  appreciating  the  dangers  that  he 
braves,  declare  that  it  would  be  a  sin  against  the  Great  Spirit 
that  has  charmed  his  life  to  aim  a  rifle  at  him,  if  they  should  ever 
meet  him  at  any  future  time. 

A  short  time  after  this,  Putnam  and  Rogers  were  again  de- 
spatched to  cut  off  a  party  of  the  enemy  that  had  plundered  a 
train  of  baggage  teams,  but  were  less  successful  than  before,  as 
the  French  had  gained  their  canoes  and  embarked  before  being 
overtaken.  Disappointed  in  the  object  of  their,  expedition,  they 
hoped  to  surprise  some  straggling  party  of  the  enemy,  and  thus 
make  reprisals  for  the  loss  which  they  had  b.een  sent  out  to 
11 


164  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

avenge.  Discovered  by  the  enemy's  scouts,  they  were  obliged 
to  give  up  this  plan  and  return  without  delay  to  Fort  Edward. 
Through  thick  woods  made  almost  impassable  by  fallen  trees  and 
by  underbrush,  they  were  obliged  to  advance  in  Indian  file,  Maj- 
or Putnam  in  the  van,  Captain  Daly  ell  in  the  center,  and  Major 
Rogers  in  the  rear.  Before  resuming  their  march,  however, 
Major  Eogers,  singularly  forgetful  of  the  caution  habitual  to  a 
ranger,  since  his  success  so  largely  depends  upo,n  it,  amused  him- 
self with  a  trial  of  skill  with  a  British  officer,  by  firing  at  a  mark. 
One  of  the  most  necessary  and  every  day  cautions  to  be  observed 
by  the  scout  is  that  of  preserving  as  complete  silence  as  possible 
on  the  expedition,  never  firing  a  gun  unless  at  the  enemy.  As 
soon  as  the  French  scouts  had  brought  information  of  this  party's 
presence,  a  force  under  Molang  was  sent  to  intercept  it.  In- 
formed by  the  firing  of  the  exact  position  of  the  Colonial  force, 
an  ambuscade  in  the  woods  was  formed,  and  here,  about  a  mile 
from  the  encampment,  the  horrid  and  discordant  yells  gave  no- 
tice of  the  attack  upon  the  van.  Dalyell  moved  rapidly  up  to 
the  support  of  Putnam,  and  the  action  grew  general  and  warm; 
but  Eogers,  probably  instigated  by  that  jealousy  of  Putnam 
which  appears  in  his  published  journal,  contented  himself  with 
forming  a  circular  file  between  the  other  two  divisions  and  the 
creek,  to  prevent  an  attack  in  the  rear. 

Inspired  by  the  heroic  example  of  Putnam,  the  officers  and 
men  alike  fought  with  great  spirit,  sometimes  in  masses  in  open 
view,  sometimes  after  the  Indian  fashion.  Putnam  had  discharged 
his  piece  several  times,  and  had  pointed  it  at  a  large  and  power- 
ful Indian,  when  it  missed  fire.  This  warrior,  availing  himself 
of  the  unprotected  state  of  his  enemy,  sprang  forward,  uttering 
his  war-cry,  and  with  lifted  tomahawk  compelled  him  to  surren- 
der. Ho  was  immediately  disarmed  and  bound  to  a  tree,  while 
his  captor  returned  to  the  fight. 

The  colonial  troops  were  forced  to  give  ground  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  the  savages,  thinking  this  the  commencement  of  a  re- 
treat, made  a  new  and  more  furious  onset,  certain  of  victory. 
But  the  provincials  had  rallied,  and  drove  back  the  enemy  be- 
yond the  point  where  the  battle  had  been  raging.  This  success 
of  his  party  put  our  hero  in  all  the  greater  danger,  as  the  tree  to 
which  ho  was  bound  was  now  in  the  thick  of  the  fight.  Around 
him  whistled  the  random  shots  from  either  side,  burying  them- 
selves in  the  tree,  and  riddling  his  clothes,  but  with  strange  good 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


165 


fortune  leaving  him  unhurt.  The  malice  of  his  enemies  was  less 
luckily  escaped.  A  young  Indian,  seeing  him  confined  thus, 
amused  himself  by  hurling  a  tomahawk  at  him,  apparently  try- 
ing to  see  how  close  he  could  come  to  the  mark  without  killing 
the  prisoner.  The  weapon  several  times  grazed  his  skin,  and 
stuck  in  the  tree  beside  his  head,  and  the  savage,  satisfied  at  his 
skill,  departed  to  try  it  on  an  unbound  victim. 

One  of  the  inferior  French  officers  came  up,  and  levelling  his 
musket  at  the  prisoner's  breast,  attempted  to  discharge  it,  but  it 
missed  fire.  Putnam's  declaration  that  he  was  a  prisoner  of  war, 
and  ought  to  be  treated  as  such,  only  enraged  the  degenerate 
Frenchman,  who  re- 
peatedly pushed  the 
muzzle  of  his  gun  vio- 
lently against  the  pris- 
oner's ribs,  and  finally, 
giving  him  a  cruel 
blow  on  the  jaw  with 
the  butt  end,  left  him. 

The  Americans  at 
length  drove  the  ene- 
my from  the  field,  but 
did  not  recapture  their 
leader.  As  they  were 
retiring,  the  Indian 
who  had  taken  Putnam 
unbound  him  and  gave 
him  into  the  charge 
of  some  others  of  his  own  race.  Stripped  of  his  coat,  vest,  stock- 
ings and  shoes,  loaded  with  as  many  packs  of  the  wounded  as 
could  be  piled  upon  him,  his  wrists  held  together  as  closely  as 
could  be  by  a  cord,  he  journeyed,  in  this  painfnl  manner,  for  many 
tedious  miles.  With  hands  swelled  from  the  tightness  of  the  cord, 
with  feet  torn  and  bleeding,  exhausted  by  a  burden  beyond  his 
strength,  and  frantic  with  torments,  he  implored  instant  death  as 
an  end  to  his  torture.  A  French  officer,  interposing,  ordered  his 
hands  to  be  unbound  and  some  of  the  packs  to  be  taken  off ;  and 
his  captor,  who  had  hitherto  been  employed  about  the  wounded, 
gave  him  a  pair  of  moccasins,  expressing  great  indignation  at  the 
treatment  he  had  received. 

But  his  torments  had  only  begun.     The  chief  was  obliged  to 


PUTNAM  TORMENTED. 


166  GENERAL  ISRAEL   PUTNAM. 

return  to  the  care  of  the  wounded,  and  the  Indians,  taking  with 
them  their  prisoner,  went  on  before  the  rest  of  the  party  to  a 
place  selected  for  that  night's  encampment.  He  was  treated  with 
the  utmost  barbarity,  carrying  to  his  grave  the  scar  of  a  toma- 
hawk wound  inflicted  then  upon  his  cheek.  Led  into  a  dark  part 
of  the  forest,  stripped  to  the  skin,  bound  to  a  tree,  surrounded 
with  dry  brush,  death  in  its  most  horrible  form  seemed  inevita- 
ble. With  yells  and  cries  that  were  a  fitting  prelude  to  human 
sacrifice,  the  savages  gathered  around  him,  and  set  fire  to  the 
brush.  A  sudden  shower  quenched  the  flames,  but  nothing  could 
divert  them  from  their  purpose,  and  at  last  the  blaze  ran  fiercely 
around  the  circle.  The  inhuman  joy  of  his  tormentors  manifest- 
ed itself  by  yelling,  dancing,  gesticulating,  as  he  shifted  his  body 
from  side  to  side  as  the  fire  approached.  Hope  was  long  since 
fled,  and  he  had  resigned  himself  to  his  dreadful  fate,  fixing  his 
mind  on  that  happier  state  of  existence  to  which  his  soul  would 
soon  pass,  when  the  orgy  suddenly  ended.  A  French  officer — Mo- 
lang  himself,  the  leader  of  the  expedition, — rushed  through  the 
crowd,  scattered  the  brands  and  unbound  the  victim.  Severely 
reprimanding  the  savages,  he  remained  with  the  prisoner  until 
he  could  deliver  him  in  safety  into  the  hands  of  his  first  captor. 

The  savage  approached  his  priconer  kindly,  and  seemed  to 
treat  him  with  affection,  adapting  the  hard  biscuit,  which  was  all 
the  food  he  could  offer,  to  the  wounded  man's  condition,  by  soak- 
ing it  in  water.  But  he  had  no  idea  of  allowing  him  to  escape,  and 
at  night  he  was  secured  in  this  way:  his  moccasins  -were  drawn 
over  his  arms,  and  each  arm,  stretched  at  full  length,  bound  fast 
to  a  young  tree  ;  each  leg  secured  in  the  same  manner;  his  body 
was  covered  with  bushes ;  around  him  lay  a  large  guard  of  In- 
dians. His  march  the  next  day  was  less  exhausting  than  it  had 
been,  as  he  was  permitted  to  have  moccasins  and  a  blanket,  was 
not  obliged  to  carry  any  pack,  and  was  protected  from  injury. 

Arriving  at  Ticonderoga  at  night,  he  was  placed  under  a 
French  guard,  and  treated  with  the  humanity  that  civilized  na- 
tions accord  to  their  prisoners  of  war.  Being  soon  afterward 
sent  to  Montreal,  where  there  were  several  other  prisoners,  he 
had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  with  Col.  Schuyler,  whose  influence 
secured  him  the  treatment  due  to  his  rank,  and  whose  liberality 
supplied  him  with  necessities  and  comforts.  The  capture  of  Fort 
Frontenac  by  the  English  gave  occasion  for  an  exchange  of  pris- 
oners, and  Col.  Schuyler,  concealing  the  fact  that  Major  Putnam 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PtJTNAM.  167 

was  a  valuable  and  distinguished  partisan  officer,  and  represent- 
ing him  as  anxious  to  be  at  home  with  his  family,  secured  the  ex- 
change of  the  man  he  had  already  befriended. 

Many  months  now  pass  before  we  find  our  hero  again  in  the 
van  of  the  fight,  though,  perhaps,  the  forests  and  the  lake  shores, 
if  they  could  but  speak,  would  tell  us  of  brave  deeds  and  daring 
adventures.  "We  find  him,  in  1760,  a  lieutenant-colonel  in  the 
army  about  to  attack  Montreal,  the  dislodgment  of  the  garrison 
on  Isle  Eoyale  being  a  necessary  preliminary  to  their  undertak- 
ing. But  the  island  was  guarded  by  two  armed  vessels  of  twelve 
guns  each,  a  broadside  from  one  of  which  would  demolish  the 
whole  fleet  of  British  boats.  Approaching  General  Amherst, 
Lieut.  Col.  Putnam  said : 

"  General,  that  ship  must  be  taken." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  commander,  "  I  would  give  anything  if 
she  were  taken." 

"  I'll  take  her,  sir." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Amherst,  with  a  smile  of  incredulity,  perhaps 
of  pity  for  the  subordinate  officer's  folly. 

"  Give  me  some  wedges,  a  mallet,  and  a  few  men  of  my  own 
choosing,  and  I  will  soon  put  her  out  of  your  way." 

Puzzled  to  think  how  such  a  vessel  could  be  taken  by  such 
means,  he  had  yet  sufficient  trust  in  the  ability,  ingenuity  and 
daring  of  the  provincial  to  give  him  what  he  requested,  and  await 
the  result  with  impatience.  Eowing  a  light  boat  with  muffled 
oars,  and  hardly  daring  to  breathe,  Putnam  and  his  chosen  few, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  approached  the  vessel,  stole  unper- 
ceived  under  her  stern,  and  noiselessly  drove  the  wedges  homo 
between  the  rudder  and  the  stern-post,  so  as  to  render  the  former 
quite  immovable.  Deprived  of  her  helm,  the  vessel  was  left  to 
the  mercy  of  the  elements,  and  soon  drifted  helplessly  ashore, 
where  she  struck  her  colors  at  the  first  summons.  Her  compan- 
ion also  soon  surrendered,  so  that  this  victory  was  won  without 
the  loss  of  a  man  or  the  firing  of  a  gun  on  either  side. 

The  singular  and  simple  machines  used  in  the  attack  of  the 
fortress  were  also  the  product  of  Putnam's  Yankee  ingenuity. 
The  sides  of  the  boat  being  covered  with  musket-proof  fascines, 
a  wide  plank,  twenty  feet  in  length,  was  fastened  to  the  boat  in 
such  a  way  that  it  could  be  raised  or  lowered  at  pleasure.  The 
fortress  was  defended  by  an  abatis  projecting  over  the  water,  the 
sharpened  branches  rendering  storming  an  almost  impossible  feat. 


168  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

Protected  by  this  plank  in  an  upright  position,  the  men  in  the 
boat  forced  the  bows  against  the  abatis,  and  then  lowering  it, 
used  it  as  a  bridge  over  the  upright  branches  to  the  more  solid 
walls.  The  garrison  did  not  offer  any  resistance,  but  capitulated 
on  seeing  these  strange  engines. 

Montreal  capitulated  upon  the  arrival  of  the  English  forces, 
and  the  conquest  of  Canada  was  thus  bloodlessly  effected.  A 
short  distance  from  this  city,  Putnam  saw  the  Indian  who  had 
made  him  prisoner  in  the  previous  campaign,  and  was  enter- 
tained by  him  with  every  mark  of  friendship  and  honor;  while 
the  American  was  no  less  pleased  to  proffer  the  brave  savage 
protection  in  this  reverse  of  his  military  fortunes. 

Putnam's  services  in  the  West  Indies,  whither  an  expedition 
was  sent  in  1762,  were  of  more  importance  than  interest.  The 
shipwreck  of  the  vessel  containing  his  command  did  not  long 
delay  him,  as  he  immediately  put  his  men  to  work  building  rafts, 
with  which  to  reach  the  shore,  whence  in  a  few  days  he  joined 
the  troops  before  Havana.  He  was  now  in  command  of  a  regi- 
ment of  regular  troops,  with  no  opportunity  for  the  adventurous 
life  of  a  ranger,  for  which  he  was  so  well  suited. 

It  was  hoped  that,  since  the  English  had  finally  driven  the 
French  from  North  America,  that  the  savages  would  desist  from 
their  depredations,  and  leave  the  colonies  to  pursue  the  advan- 
tages that  had  been  gained  in  this  long  and  sanguinary  conflict. 
But  it  was  a  vain  hope.  Some  of  the  Indians,  indeed,  laid  down 
their  arms,  but  many  of  the  tribes  on  the  western  frontiers  still 
continued  hostilities — not,  as  before,  to  sustain  or  restore  the 
French  dominion,  but  apparently  with  a  view  to  regaining,  for 
themselves,  some  part*  of  the  immense  territory  which  had  been 
wrested  from  them.  Even  at  that  early  day,  the  sagacity  of 
Pontiac  foresaw  the  extermination  of  his  people — a  work  not 
yet,  indeed,  completed,  but  which  the  second  centennial  may  re- 
gard as  a  thing  accomplished.  He  foresaw  what  a  hundred  and 
twenty  years  have  taught  his  race — that  the  intrusion  of  the 
whites  to  the  west  meant  perpetual  encroachment,  treacherous, 
over-reaching  negotiations  and  diplomacy,  and  ultimately,  the 
complete  annihilation  of  the  tribes  that  once  possessed  America. 
He  saw  that  the  nations,  divided,  could  not  stand  against  the 
united  English,  and  secured  the  co-operation  of  the  Shawnees, 
the  Delawares,  and  all  the  tribes  along  the  Ohio,  and  east  of  the 
Mississippi,  his  own  people,  the  Ottawas,  of  course  taking  part. 


ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


led 


In  pursuance  of  this  plot,  Pontiac  sent  word  to  Maj.  Gladwin, 
the  English  commandant  of  the  fort  at  Detroit,  that  ho  was  com- 
ing on  a  certain  day,  with  his  warriors,  to  talk  with  him.  His 
secret  intention  was  to  seize  the  fort,  and  massacre  the  garrison. 
The  warriors  were  to  cut  down  their  rifles  to  such  a  length  that 
they  could  conceal  them  under  their  hlankets. 

The  conspiracy  was  well  planned,  and  so  quietly  arranged  that 
no  suspicion  was  excited,  until  a  young  squaw  betrayed  him  in 
June,  1763  ;  so  that  when  the  treacherous  visit  was  paid,  Major 
G-ladwin  was  well  prepared,  and  unmasked  him,  but  unwisely 


INDIAN  SQUAW  BETRAYING  PONTIAC'S  CONSPIRACY. 


let  him  go.    Within  two  weeks  all  the  English  garrisons  and  trad- 
ing posts  west  of  Oswego,  except  Niagara,  Fort  Pitt  and  Detroit, 
had  fallen  into  his  hands;  so  well  did  he  maintain  his  posit 
that  it  was  only  with  difficulty  that  the  English  could  hold  these 
three  points.     In  1764,  Col.  Bradstreet  was  sent  with  a  fore 
reduce  the  Indians,  Col.  Putnam  being  in  command  of  the  t: 
from  Connecticut.     Among  the  allies  of  the  English  on  t 
pedition  were  the  old  Indian  chief  who  had  captured  Putnam  ai 
Joseph  Brant,  the  famous  Mohawk  chief,  who  was  afterward 
become  odious  to  Americans  during  the  Eevolution,  and      en, 


170 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


acting  as  peace-maker,  disseminate  Christian  knowledge  among 
his  people. 

Putnam's  services  on  this  expedition  were  better  suited  to  his 
present  rank  than  if  they  had  been  such  as  he  was  accustomed  to 
perform,  but  they  are  scarcely  of  as  much  interest  as  when  he  led 
a  few  men  into  danger,  and  safely  accomplished  the  task  set.  The 
part  that  he  had  acted  in  this  war,  from  its  beginning  in  1755  to 
the  defeat  of  Pontiac's  conspiracy  in  1764,  had  been  one  of  pecu- 
liar hardship  and  peril.  Always  in  the  van  when  charging  the 
enemy,  in  the  rear  when  a  retreat  was  ordered,  stationed  among 


POXTIAC'S  VISIT  TO  MAJOR  GLADWIN. 

the  outposts  when  the  army  was  in  camp,  hidden  in  the  woods  or 
ranging  along  the  shores  of  the  lake,  his  was  never  the  safe  and 
easy  part  that  such  officers  as  Gren.  Webb  chose.  His  courage, 
his  complete  indifference  to  danger,  his  fruitfulness  of  resources, 
commanded  the  admiration  of  all.  * 

He  laid  aside  his  uniform,  and  returned  to  his  farm.  Ten  years 
of  military  life,  crowned  by  the  recognition  of  the  integrity, 
courage  and  patriotism  which  his  promotions  showed,  had  not 
impaired  the  kindliness  of  his  nature,  nor  inflated  him  with  pride. 
But  now  that  military  honors  were  laid  aside,  the  civic  crown 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM.  171 

awaited  him,  and  to  post  after  post  of  honor  and  trust  the  united 
voice  of  his  fellow-citizens  called  him,  until  he  again  unsheathed 
Ms  sword  for  his  native  land — not  for  its  safety,  but  for  its  liberty. 

In  the  meantime,  Gen.  Lyman  had  secured  from  the  English 
government  a  grant  of  land  in  the  far  west,  as  it  was  then,  and  a 
colony  was  organized  to  go  to  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  Of 
these  Military  Adventurers,  as  the  company  was  called,  Col.  Put- 
nam was  one,  and  in  1774  accompanied  several  other  gentlemen 
similarly  interested,  on  a  trip  then  as  dangerous  and  difficult  as 
one  to  Siberia  would  be  now.  The  steamboat  was  not  known, 
the  railroad  had  not  been  dreamed  of,  and  the  voyage  was  a  long 
and  tedious  one.  The  passage  up  the  river,  too,  was  laborious, 
since  even  the  snag-boats  were  not  in  existence.  A  settlement 
was  really  formed  at  Natchez,  but  Putnam's  thoughts  were  di- 
verted from  enterprises  of  private  gain  to  devising  and  executing 
measures  for  the  public  weal.  He  had  already  taken  active  part 
in  that  resistance  which  led  to  the  repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act  and 
similar  obnoxious  laws,  and  he  returned  horn  enow  to  make  prep- 
arations for  the  war  which  was  seen  to  be  inevitable. 

The  time  of  waiting  passed  away — the  waiting  for  the  storm 
to  break.  The  dull  mutterings  had  been  heard  by  the  prophetic 
ears  of  statesmen  and  soldiers,  and  the  roar  of  thunder  from  the 
guns  of  Lexington  aroused  the  country.  The  militia  seized  the 
arms  which  had  been  kept  in  constant  readiness,  and  hastened  to 
the  scene  of  action.  A  mounted  drummer  spread  the  alarm. 
Putnam  unyoked  his  team  of  oxen  from  the  plough,  and  bidding 
his  son  go  home  and  tell  his  mother  where  he  was  gone,  mounted 
his  horse  and  dashed  off  towards  Boston.  In  twenty-four  hours 
he  had  ridden  the  hundred  miles. 

Eeturning  almost  immediately  to  Connecticut  to  raise  troops, 
he  was,  by  the  legislature  of  that  state,  commissioned  as  briga- 
dier-general ;  and  on  his  return  to  Cambridge  was  assigned  an 
important  post.  Putnam's  experience  in  the  French  and  Indian 
war  served  him  in  good  stead,  and  like  many  others,  his  reputa- 
tion served  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  British  commanders. 
One  of  their  favorite  measures,  to  weaken  the  force  of  their  ad- 
versaries, was  the  attempt  to  win  over  to  the  king,  by  bribes  of 
gold  and  offers  of  distinction,  some  of  the  ablest  and  bravest  of 
our  generals.  With  some  they  were  successful,  but  although 
Putnam  was  offered  a  commission  as  major-general,  a  large  pe- 
cuniary compensation  for  his  services  and  liberal  provision  for 


172  OKNURAii  ISRAEL 


his  sons,  he  rejected  the  proposition  with  a  contempt  and  dig- 
nity befitting  his  true-hearted  patriotism  and  manhood. 

Gen.  Putnam's  position  at  Bunker  Hill  has  heen  the  subject  of 
considerable  controversy,  but  it  is  now  generally  conceded  that 
his  conduct  was  distinguished  by  the  utmost  intrepidity.  His 
previous  experience  had,  as  before  stated,  gained  him  the  respect 
of  the  British  officers  with  whom  he  had  served.  "  If  you  take 
General  Putnam  alive/'  said  General  Abercrombie,  who  had  re- 
ceived his  death-wound  in  front  of  the  redoubt,  "  do  not  hang 
him,  for  he1  is  a  brave  fellow/'  But  though  he  was,  throughout 
the  engagement,  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  urging  his  men  onward, 
counselling  anything  but  retreat,  entreating  all  to  maintain  their 
ground,  he  escaped  wounds  and  captivity.  But  retreat  was  inevi- 
table, since  the  ammunition  of  the  Americans  was  exhausted. 
Putnam,  though  the  balls  fell  like  hail  around  him,  was,  as  usual, 
wholly  insensible  to  danger,  and  dismounting,  took  his  stand  by 
one  of  the  deserted  field-pieces,  seeming  resolved  to  brave  the 
enemy  alone.  Dressed  in  a  light  blue  and  scarlet  uniform,  with 
his  head  uncovered  and  his  sword  waving  toward  the  enemy,  as 
if  to  arrest  their  impetuous  pursuit  or  defy  their  advance,  painter 
and  poet  have  combined  to  make  him  no  less  conspicuous  than 
he  deserves  to  be. 

The  Continental  Congress  was  even  then  in  session,  and  soon 
commissioned  officers  to  lead  the  colonial  armies  from  those  who 
had  been  provincial  leaders,  Putnam  being  one  of  the  four  major- 
generals.  In  the  work  of  fortification,  he  proved  invaluable. 
"  You  seem  to  have  the  faculty,  sir,  of  infusing  your  own  indus- 
trious spirit  into  all  the  workmen  you  employ,"  said  Washing- 
ton, who  had  not  known  him  before  his  arrival  at  Cambridge. 
The  importance  and  difficulty  of  the  task  so  well  performed  can 
hardly  be  over-rated  ;  to  put  men  who  had  taken  up  arms  for  the 
defense  of  their  country,  and  who  were  burning  with  zeal  to  dare 
all  dangers  in  that  noble  cause,  to  cutting  down  trees  and 
digging  ditches,  was  to  give  orders  which  none  wished  to  obey. 
Many  of  the  subordinate  officers,  too  full  of  the  dignity  of  their 
position,  did  not  enter  heartily  into  the  spirit  of  the  commander. 
On  one  occasion,  when  a  breast-work  was  being  thrown  up  on 
Ploughed  Hill,  half  a  mile  from  the  enemy's  intrenchments  on 
Bunker  Hill,  Putnam,  superintending  the  work  with  his  usual 
vigilance,  came  to  where  a  quantity  of  sods  had  just  been 
brought  up.  Addressing  a  man  standing  near,  he  said  : 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


173 


"You  are  a  soldier,  I  suppose.     Place  these  sods  on  the  wall." 

Seeing  that  the  man  proceeded  very  slowly  to  execute  the 
order,  Putnam  added,  in  a  mock-apologetic  tone  : 

"  Oh  !  I  see  you  are  an  officer/'  and  setting  to  work  he  placed 
the  sods  in  position  himself. 

Important  as  his  services  were,  and  recognized  as  such  by  his 
contemporaries  and  by  historians  of  later  date,  we  must  pass 
them  lightly  over,  for  to  follow  Putnam  through  the  war  would 
require  a  complete  history  of  the  contest  in  the  northern  half  of 
the  country.  Not  even  when  he  plunges  down  the  precipitous 
declivity  at  Horseneck,  to  the  amazement  of  the  British  huzzars 
hesitating  on  fhe  brink  of  the  hill,  may  we  follow  him,  though 
the  same  spirit  animated  him  in  this  daring  and  successful  effort 
to  escape,  that  led  him  into  the  wolf's  den,  or  down  the  rapids 
of  the  Hudson. 


PUTNAM'S  FLIGHT  DOWN  THE  ROCKS  AT  HORSENECK. 

Brave  even  to  rashness  when  anything  was  to  be  accomplish- 
ed by  sheer  courage,  he  held  in  utter  detestation  and  contempt 
the  so-called  code  of  honor.  Nevertheless,  the  records  of  two 
duels  remain  to  us,  in  both  of  which  he  came  oif  victor. 

It  once  happened  that  he,  unintentionally,  grossly  offended  a 
brother  officer,  who  demanded  reparation.  Heated  by  wine  and 
excitement,  Putnam  professed  his  readiness  to  accommodate  the 
gentleman  with  a  fight ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  meet 


174 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


the  next  morning,  without  seconds.  His  opponent,  armed  with 
sword  and  pistols,  entered  the  field  at  the  time  set;  Putnam  had 
taken  his  stand  at  the  opposite  extremity,  thirty  rods  away,  and 
immediately  levelling  his  musket,  fired ;  proceeding  deliberately 
to  reload  his  gun  as  soon  as  it  was  discharged. 

"  What  are  you  about  to  do  ?"  was  the  angry  question  ;  "  Is 
this  the  conduct  of  an  American  officer,  and  a  man  of  honor  ?" 

"  What  am  I  about  to 
do?  A  pretty  question 
to  put  to  the  man  whom, 
you  intend  to  murder  ! 
I'm  about  to  kill  you; 
and  if  you  don't  beat  a 
retreat  in  less  time  than 
it  would  take  to  hang  a 
Tory,  you're  a  gone 
dog." 

The  ramrod  was  re- 
placed, the  gun  levelled 
again,  but  the  belliger- 
ent officer  had  no  de- 
sire for  that  kind  of  a 
duel,  and  turning,  fled 
for  dear  life. 

The  second  duel  was 
equally  characteristic. 
An  English  officer,  a 
prisoner  on  parole, 
taking  offence  at  Gen. 
PONTIAC.  Putnam's  reflections 

upon  the  character  of  the  British,  demanded  satisfaction  as  for 
a  personal  insult.  Putnam  readily  accepted  the  challenge,  and 
having,  of  course,  the  choice  of  weapons,  agreed  to  be  at  a  cer- 
tain place  next  morning  with  arms  for  both  parties.  Arrived 
at  the  appointed  spot,  the  Englishman  found  his  opponent,  un- 
armed but  for  his  sword,  sitting  calmly  smoking  by  the  side  of 
a  powder-barrel,  into  a  small  opening  in  the  top  of  which  a 
common  match  was  inserted.  Requesting  the  Englishman  to  sit 
down  on  the  other  side  of  the  cask,  he  lit  the  match  with  his 
pipe,  and  went  on  smoking  unconcernedly,  remarking  that  their 
chances  were  equal.  For  a  moment  the  Englishman  watched 


GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 


175 


the  match,  but  as  the  fire  crept  slowly  down  towards  the  powder, 
he  started  up  and  beat  a  hasty  retreat. 

"  You  are  just  as  brave  as  I  took  you  to  be,"  said  Putnam, 
strolling  leisurely  toward  where  the  Englishman  had  halted! 
"  That  is  nothing  but  a  barrel  of  onions,  with  a  few  grains  of 
powder  scattered  over  the  top,  to  try  you.  But  you  don't  like 
the  smell." 

Early  in  December,  1779,  Gen.  Putnam  obtained  leave  of  ab- 
sence and  went  to  visit  his  family  in  Connecticut.  Before  the 
end  of  that  month,  he  set 
out  on  his  return  to  camp, 
but  had  proceeded  only  a 
few  miles  when  a  numbness 
seized  upon  him,  and  he 
found  himself  unable  to 
move  the  limbs  on  one  side 
of  his  body.  Eeaching,  with 
some  difficulty,  the  house 
of  a  friend,  he  endeavored 
to  shake  the  disease  off  by 
active  exertion,  but  an  at- 
tack of  paralysis  was  not 
to  be  cured  by  such  a  sim- 
ple remedy.  He  indeed  re- 
covered so  far  that  moder- 
ate exercise  in  walking  or 
riding  was  not  impossible, 
but  he  must  henceforth  live 
a  comparatively  retired 
and  inactive  life.  His  mental  faculties,  his  relish  for  social  en- 
joyments, his  love  of  pleasantry,  he  retained  undiminished  for 
more  than  ten  years. 

After  a  life  spent  on  the  farm  and  in  the  army,  respected  alike 
as  a  bold  and  valuable  partisan,  a  brave  and  good  general,  an  un- 
shaken patriot,  an  industrious,  sensible  man,  a  good  husband,  a 
provident  father,  and,  in  the  later  years  at  least,  a  sincere  Chris- 
tian, he  passed  quietly  away  on  the  nineteenth  of  May,  1790,  and 
was  buried  with  all  the  honors  that  can  be  accorded  to  a  dead 
soldier.  He  had  seen  the  French  dispossessed  of  their  vast  em- 
pire in  the  new  world ;  he  had  witnessed  the  efforts  of  the  Indians 
to  regain  the  heritage  of  their  fathers,  and  probably  heard  in  1769, 


KILLING  OF  PONTIAC. 


176  GENERAL  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 

with  a  feeling  of  relief,  that  Pontiac,  the  head  of  that  conspiracy, 
had  been  treacherously  slain  by  one  of  his  own  race  in  the  flourish- 
ing frontier  settlement  of  Cahokia,  the  site  of  which  is  now  the 
bed  of  the  Mississippi  near  St.  Louis ;  he  had  seen  the  English, 
in  their  turn,  dispossessed  of  the  greater  part  of  their  empire 
here,  retaining,  not  what  they  had  settled,  but  what  they  had 
conquered;  he  had  seen  the  united  colonies  erected  into  the 
"free  and  independent  states"  which  of  right  they  had  long  been, 
and  prospering  under  the  rule  of  the  first  president ;  in  all  these 
dangers  and  conflicts,  he  had  borne  a  leading  part;  he  "dared  to 
lead  where  any  dared  to  follow." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BEADY. 

BEADY'S  Lake,  Brady's  Eun,  Brady's  Hill— these  and  more 
places  in  the  region  of  Western  Pennsylvania  and  Ohio, 
attest  that  a  hero  of  the  people  lived  there  and  fought  for  them; 
for  in  the  days  when  these  names  were  given,  such  respect  was 
shown  only  to  the  brave  men  who  defended  the  helpless  from 
savage  foemen.  The  evidence  of  a  name  may  sometimes  be  false, 
or  at  least  convey  an  erroneous  impression,  but  in  this  case  his- 
tory teaches  the  truth  of  the  inference  we  naturally  draw. 

Born  in  Delaware  in  1756  or  1758,  Samuel  Brady  was  but  a 
child  when  he  was  taken  by  his  parents  to  their  new  home  in  the 
western  part  of  Pennsylvania.  Here  he  grew  to  boyhood,  his 
appetite  for  adventure  being  amply  fed  by  the  contests  of  the 
settlers  with  the  savages ;  but  of  his  own  special  exploits  we  learn 
nothing  until  the  beginning  of  the  Eevolution.  Enlisting  in 
Capt.  Lowden's  company  of  volunteer  riflemen  in  1775,  a  com- 
mission was  offered  him,  but  his  father  caused  him  to  decline  the 
glittering  title. 

"  Let  him  first  learn  to  obey,"  said  sturdy  John  Brady,  "  and 
when  he  has  learned  that  lesson,  he  will  know  all  the  better  how 
to  act  as  an  officer." 

But  his  cool  courage  soon  raised  him  to  the  place  of  a  com- 
missioned officer,  in  spite  of  his  father's  refusal.  Once  in  the 
army,  the  judgment-  of  his  superiors  must  be  his  only  guide,  and 
they  soon  decided  that  the  young  volunteer  was  not  to  remain  a 
private.  The  promotion,  however,  did  not  take  place  until  after 
they  had  reached  Boston.  In  that  city  lay  the  British  force, 
and  surrounding  it  were  the  soldiers  of  the  colonies.  Lowden 
being  directed  to  select  a  body  of  men  to  wade  to  a  certain  island 
at  low  tide  and  drive  away  some  cattle  belonging  to  the  British, 
did  not  include  Brady  in  the  party.  Brady  was  not  the  man, 
however,  to  wait  for  an  invitation  to  join  such  an  excursion,  and 


178  CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRABT. 

in  defiance  of  military  rules,  made  one  of  the  number  without 
the  captain's  knowledge.  Somewhat  to  the  leader's  surprise, 
then,  the  second  man  on  the  island  proved  to  be  the  one  not  cho- 
sen because  he  was  too  young.  !N"or  was  this  the  only  evidence 
that  Lowden  received  of  his  youthful  subordinate's  courage. 
Sitting  together  on  a  fence  one  day,  viewing  the  British  fortifi- 
cations, they  were  thrown  to  the  ground  by  a  cannon  ball  which 
shattered  their  support.  Jumping  up  first,  Brady  raised  Lowden 
in  his  arms,  with  the  re-assuring,  "  "We  are  not  hurt,  Captain." 

Appointed  first  lieutenant  of  another  company  in  1776,  he  was 
in  all  the  principal  battles  of  the  two  succeeding  years,  being 
made  captain  for  gallant  conduct  on  the  field  of  Monmouth  (June 
28,  1778).  The  murder  of  his  brother  in  August  of  that  year,  and 
of  his  father  ten  months  later,  by  the  merciless  hand  of  the  red 
man,  gave  his  feelings  another  direction.  Heretofore  he  had 
indeed  looked  upon  the  Indians  as  unfriendly  to  the  whites,  but 
it  was  a  hostility  of  far  less  importance  than  that  which  threat- 
ened to  keep  the  entire  country  under  the  iron  heel  of  its  foreign 
master.  Now,  his  whole  soul  was  filled  with  hatred  against  the 
murderer  of  his  father  and  brother,  and  the  feeling  was  never 
softened  by  years. 

At  Princeton  and  Paoli  the  young  lieutenant  had  been  present 
as  well  as  at  Monmouth;  but  the  latter  was  the  last  notable  bat- 
tle of  the  [Revolution  in  which  he  fought.  Henceforth,  his  con- 
tests were  to  be  in  the  lonely  wilds  of  the  western  forests,  with 
a  foe  who  knew  nothing  but  woodcraft  and  cruelty.  For  seven 
years  of  his  boyhood  and  youth  he  had  been  a  dweller  in  Western 
Pennsylvania,  then  a  sparsely  settled  wilderness ;  and  if  in  that 
time  he  had  learned  the  Indian  lore,  eye  and  ear  were  sharpened 
now  by  the  desire  of  revenge. 

We  hear  no  more  of  him  for  nearly  two  years  after  this  last 
named  battle.  In  1780,  Washington  sent  to  Gen.  Broadhead,  in 
command  of  a  small  fort  within  the  present  limits  of  Pittsburgh, 
directing  him  to  despatch  a  suitable  officer  to  Sandusky  to  exam- 
ine the  place  and  ascertain  the  numbers  of  the  British  and  Indians 
stationed  there.  It  was  the  sagacity  of  the  commander-in-chief 
providing  in  every  quarter  against  danger,  as  this  section  was 
harassed  by  continual  depredations,  and  in  daily  expectation  of 
a  more  systematic  attack.  A  good  leader  finds  good  followers, 
and  Gen.  Broadhead  did  not  disappoint  the  hopes  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief by  selecting  any  but  the  best  man  for  the 


CAPTAIN   SAMUEL   BRADY.  179 

W0rk — Captain  Samuel  Brady.  Selecting  him  without  hesitation 
as  best  fitted  for  the  perilous  mission,  the  officer  provided  him 
with  a  rough  map  of  the  country  that  he  must  traverse,  and  gave 
him  command  of  a  suitable  party. 

Brady  knew  too  well  the  perils  of  the  wilderness  to  under- 
rate the  dangers  of  his  present  errand ;  but  he  fully  understood 
the  importance  of  the  mission,  and  any  danger  or  hardship  which 
he  might  undergo  was  nothing  when  the  welfare  of  his  country 
was  to  be  advanced.  The  appointment  was  accepted,  and  accom- 
panied by  a  few  soldiers  and  four  Chickasaw  Indians  as  guides, 
he  set  out  in  the  direction  indicated.  It  was  early  in  May,  and 
the  season  unusually  wet.  Every  stream  on  their  way  they  found 
swollen  to  a  torrent.  The  map  which  guided  them,  though 
probably  as  good  as  could  be  made  of  that  section  at  that  time, 
was  so  faulty  as  to  mislead  them  seriously ;  the  distances  measured 
on  that  appeared  much  less  than  they  really  were ;  indeed  so  great 
was  the  difference  that  the  food  with  which  they  were  provided, 
and  which  had  been  calculated  as  sufficient  for  the  journey,  gave 
out  before  they  reached  home.  Creeping  stealthily  through  the 
woods  by  night,  and  concealing  themselves  in  the  trees  by  day, 
they  managed  to  escape  observation  where  the  print  of  a  white 
man's  foot  on  the  yielding  soil  of  the  prairie  or  the  dry  sand  of 
the  river  bank  might  have  meant  death  to  all.  This  security 
was  doubtless  partly  due  to  their  costume,  which  was  that  of 
the  Indians,  and  to  their  leader's  acquaintance  with  the  Indian 
languages. 

Hardly  had  they  come  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sandusky,  when 
the  four  Chickasaws  deserted.  This  defection  was  alarming, 
from  the  weakness  of  their  party,  which  would,  of  course,  be  ac- 
curately described  to  the  enemy.  Nothing  daunted,  however,  he 
pushed  on,  and  came  in  sight  of  the  Sandusky  towns.  Conceal- 
ing all  of  his  men  but  one,  these  two  waded  out  to  an  island  op- 
posite the  town  and  hid  themselves  in  the  driftwood  with  which 
it  was  partially  covered.  Here  they  remained  during  the  night. 
Awakening  early  in  the  morning,  they  found  everything  hidden 
by  a  dense  fog  which  covered  river  and  shore,  leaving  visible 
only  the  logs  and  brush  near  enough  for  them  to  touch.  This  fog 
lifted  about  eleven  o'clock,  showing  them  about  three  thousand 
Indians  amusing  themselves  with  races. 

So  fully  occupied  were  the  Indians  with  their  pleasure,  that 
'Brady's  party  escaped  notice,  Leaving  tho  island  at  night,  the 
12 


180  CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY. 

two  soldiers  rejoined  their  companions,  and  returning  to  a  camp 
which  they  had  seen  on  the  night  before,  captured  some  squaws 
who  were  there  alone.  Satisfied  with  the  information  which 
they  had  obtained,  they  began  the  march  homeward  ;  but  so  great 
was  the  difference  between  the  real  and  estimated  distances  that 
both  provisions  and  ammunition  failed  them  by  the  time  that  they 
had  reached  the  Big  Beaver.  With  his  last  load  in  his  rifle, 
Brady  left  the  party  to  follow  a  deer  track  which  he  discovered. 
Going  but  a  few  rods,  he  saw  the  deer  standing  broadside  to  him, 
and  taking  aim,  fired ;  or  rather  attempted  to  fire,  for  the  gun 
flashed  in  the  pan,  and  he  had  not  a  priming  of  powder  left.  Sitting 
down  a  moment,  he  picked  the  touch  hole,  and  then  started  on. 
Following  the  turnings  of  the  path,  he  saw  a  party  of  Indian 
warriors,  the  chief  in  front,  mounted,  having  a  child  before  him 
and  its  mother  behind  him.  Brady  raised  his  rifle  and  stepped 
behind  a  tree  to  wait  until  he  could  fire  at  the  Indian  without  en- 
dangering the  sleeping  child  or  its  mother.  An  opportunity  soon 
occurred,  and  as  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifle  broke  the  stillness, 
the  chief  fell  from  his  horse.  Calling  to  his  men  with  a  voice 
that  rang  like  the  blare  of  a  trumpet,  he  sprang  to  the  chiefs 
side,  not  for  his  scalp,  but  for  the  greater  prize  of  his  powder- 
horn.  Bewildered  by  his  action,  the  woman  asked  of  the  seeming 
Indian : 

"Why  did  you  shoot  your  brother  ?" 

Catching  up  the  child,  and  recognizing  the  woman,  he  said  to 
her: 

" Jenny  Stupes,  I  am  Captain  Brady;  follow  me  and  I  will 
save  you  and  your  child." 

Into  the  brush  he  dashed  with  his  helpless  burden,  followed 
by  the  mother,  untouched  by  the  balls  from  the  rifles  of  the 
other  Indians,  who  had  fallen  a  short  distance  behind  their  chief. 
Dreading  an  ambuscade  of  a  hostile  party  of  their  own  race,  as 
they  supposed,  these  were  glad  enough  to  make  off  without  fol- 
lowing up  their  late  prisoners.  Arriving  the  next  day  at  Fort 
Mclntosh  with  his  proteges,  ho  found  his  men  awaiting  him. 
They  had  heard  and  recognized  his  call,  but  having  no  ammuni- 
tion, had  beaten  a  successful  retreat,  leaving  the  squaws  that  they 
had  taken  prisoners  at  Sandusky  to  return  to  their  dusky  lords 
at  their  pleasure. 

So  thoroughly  had  the  cruel  practices  of  the  Indians  been  adopt- 
ed by  the  white  men  that  Brady  was  not  contented  until  he  had 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  181 

sought  out  the  body  of  the  Indian  he  had  slain.  The  command- 
er gave  him  several  soldiers,  in  addition  to  his  own  party,  and 
the  scene  of  the  rencontre  was  found  without  any  difficulty;  but 
the  body  of  the  savage  had  been  removed  by  his  followers.  A 
careful  examination  of  the  trail  failed  to  disclose  any  appearance 
of  such  a  burden  having  been  carried  away.  For  some  time 
they  hunted  for  a  grave  in  vain.  So  great  had  been  the  care  ex- 
ercised in  replacing  the  earth  and  the  sod  that  they  might  have 
walked  over  the  spot,  had  not  the  branches,  stuck  in  the  ground 
to  still  further  conceal  the  place  of  interment,  been  withered,  thus 
defeating  the  very  end  they  were  to  serve.  About  two  feet  bo- 
low  the  surface  they  found  the  body  of  the  warrior,  adorned  and 
armed  as  though  for  the  combat,  and,  barbarous  as  it  may  now 
seem,  his  scalp  was  promptly  taken. 

While  the  story  of  his  life  abounds  with  stirring  adventures, 
the  very  fact  that  his  hatred  to  the  savages  was  always  the  same, 
renders  it  impossible  to  ascertain,  accurately,  at  this  late  day,  the 
precise  or  even  the  relative  time  of  each  one.  The  reader  must 
then  understand  that  while  various  authorities  have  endeavored 
to  place  in  their  exact  order  the  stories  which  shall  be  told,  they 
differ  among  themselves  to  such  an  extent  that,  while  the  fact 
remains,  we  can  only  guess  when  it  occurred. 

It  was  probably  during  his  return  from  the  Sandusky  expedi- 
tion that  he  felt  satisfied  that  he  had  been  tracked.  He  knew 
that  with  the  precautions  he  had  taken,  in  the  way  of  keeping  to 
the  dry  ridges,  walking  on  fallen  logs  as  much  as  possible,  and 
similar  devices,  even  the  children  of  the  forest  could  not  follow 
him  without  a  dog.  Walking  along  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  chest- 
nut tree,  he  concealed  himself  in  the  pit  made  by  the  tearing  up 
of  the  roots.  He  had  not  waited  long  before  a  little  dog  came 
snuffing  along  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  closely  followed  by  an  In- 
dian. There  were  probably  more  Indians  on  the  trail,  but  only 
the  one  dog ;  one,  therefore,  would  be  instantly  replaced,  the 
other  would  be  an  irreparable  loss.  Such  was  the  reasoning 
which  determined  Brady  to  fire  upon  the  dog.  As  the  little  ani- 
mal rolled  dead  from  the  log,  the  Indian  turned  and  fled  back 
into  the  forest  with  a  wild  whoop.  Brady  was  not  followed  again 
on  that  expedition. 

So  annoying  had  been  the  depredations  of  the  Indians  that  on 
one  occasion  Gen.  Broadhead  resolved  upon  a  retaliatory  expe- 
dition, to  be  commanded  in  person,  Brady  being  at  the  head  of 


182  CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY. 

the  advance  guard.  Near  the  creek  emptying  into  the  Alleghany 
Kiver,  known  now  as  Brady's  Bend,  the  rangers,  who  were  some 
distance  in  front  of  the  main  body,  discovered  a  war-party  of 
Indians  approaching.  Knowing  that  the  main  body  of  soldiers 
would  easily  defeat  the  savages,  Brady  and  his  men  left  the  trail 
they  were  pursuing,  and  turned  aside  to  seize  a  pass  farther  up 
the  river.  Everything  turned  out  as  they  had  supposed  it  would, 
and  the  Indians  were  defeated  in  both  fights,  with  the  loss  of 
their  famous  chief,  Bald  Eagle,  and  many  of  their  warriors.  The 
little  army  of  white  men  proceeded  on  the  path  they  had  marked 
out  for  themselves,  and  having  destroyed  the  corn  of  the  Indians 
and  indulged  in  various  methods  of  retaliation,  returned  home. 

It  was  probably  but  a  short  time  after  his  return  from  the  San- 
dusky  expedition  that  the  smouldering  envy  of  his  brother  offi- 
cers was  fanned  into  flames  by  his  frequent  successful  expedi- 
tions. To  such  an  extent  did  the  feeling  grow  that  they  openly 
requested  Gen.  Broadhead  to  permit  them  to  share  in  the  dan- 
gers and  honors  monopolized  by  Captain  Brady.  The  command- 
ing officer  informed  Brady  of  this,  and  he  readily  consented  to 
give  the  others  a  chance. 

An  opportunity  soon  occurred  for  his  envious  comrades  to  dis- 
tinguish themselves  in  his  chosen  field,  for  news  having  been 
brought  to  Pittsburgh  of  a  murderous  attack  upon  the  settlement 
at  Sewickly,  they  were  despatched  with  a  large  party  to  avenge 
the  massacre.  Much  against  his  will,  Brady  remained  in  Pitts- 
burgh. On  the  day  after  that  on  which  the  emulous  officers  had 
set  out,  Brady  requested  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  "go  catch 
the  Indians."  The  desired  permission  was  at  first  refused,  but 
by  dint  of  long  pleading,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  party 
of  five  white  men  and  a  "pet"  Indian.  The  larger  force 
had  moved  directly  upon  Sewickly,  intending  to  follow  up  the 
trail  from  that  point.  Brady  calculated  what  their  course 
would  most  probably  be,  and  with  silent  speed  moved  forward 
to  intercept  them,  instead  of  pursuing  them.  This  plan  proved 
successful,  and  they  hid  themcelves  near  the  Indian -camp.  A 
horse  that  the  Indians  had  carried  off  from  Sewickly  came  very 
near  betraying  their  hiding  place,  seeming  determined  to  keep 
near  them,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  Brady  could  refrain 
from  tomahawking  the  Indian  who  came  to  look  after  the  stolen 
property ;  but  he  hoped  to  secure  much  greater  results  by  wait- 
ing a  little  longer, 


SAMUEL  BRADY.  183 

Gathering  all  the  plunder  that  they  could  find  in  the  camp,  and 
taking  the  stolen  horse  with  them,  the  party  now  returned  to 
Pittsburgh,  descending  the  river  in  the  canoes  of  the  Indians. 

Posting  themselves  near  one  camp  as  soon  as  the  Indians  ap- 
peared to  be  asleep,  they  awaited,  in  dead  silence,  the  approach 
of  light.  At  daybreak  the  Indians  awoke,  and  standing  about  the 
fire,  recalled  the  triumphs  of  the  previous  days ;  the  scalps  taken, 
the  booty  carried  off,  the  injury  inflicted  on  their  enemies.  But 
their  exultation  was  short-lived — the  avenger  was  near.  Seven 
rifles  united  in  a  deadly  chorus — one  sharp  note, — and  five  of  the 
savages  fell  without  knowing  what  had  killed  them.  The  wild 
cry  of  their  most  dreaded  enemy  w^as  heard  in  their  midst,  his 
men  were  among  them,  he  himself  was  there;  and  the  Indians 
who  had  not  fallen  instantly  fled.  One  who  was  mortally  wound- 
ed was  pursued  by  the  trace  of  blood  ;  having  staunched  its  flow, 
he  endeavored  to  escape;  the  "pet"  Indian  gave  the  cry  of  a 
young  wolf;  the  wounded  man  paused  and  answered,  then  con- 
tinued his  flight;  the  second  time  the  call  was  given,  and  an- 
swered, but  he  soon  espied  his  pursuers,  and  divining  the  source 
of  the  cry,  answered  it  no  more.  Three  weeks  after,  Brady  was 
again  in  this  locality,  and  observing  that  the  ravens  were  gath- 
ered in  one  particular  spot,  found  there  the  body  of  this  Indian. 

Thrae  days  after  their  return  the  large  party  sent  out  first 
came  into  the  fort,  reporting  that  they  had  followed  the  Indians 
closely,  but  that  it  had  been  of  no  use ;  the  savages  having  es- 
caped by  means  of  their  canoes. 

A  short  time  after  this  adventure,  an  honest-hearted  Dutchman 
named  Phouts,  seeing  Brady  apparently  absorbed  in  thought,  ap- 
proached him  and  asked,  in  his  most  sympathetic  tone : 

"  Yas  ist  der  madder,  Gabtain  ?  " 

Brady  looked  at  him  a  moment  without  speaking ;  then  having 
made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  qualifications  of  the  man  before  him, 
replied: 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  the  red-skins,  and  it  is  my  opinion 
that  there  are  some  of  them  above  us  on  the  river.  I  have  a  mind 
to  pay  them  a  visit.  Now  if  I  get  permission  from  the  General 
to  do  so,  will  you  go  along  ?  " 

Phouts'  eyes  flashed  with  delight.  Raising  himself  on  tiptoe 
and  bringing  his  heels  suddenly  to  the  ground,  he  answered^: 

"  Py  dunder,  Gabtain,  I  rader  go  mit  you  dan  to  the  vineat 
veddin'  in  der  gountry.'* 


184  CAPTAltf  SAMUEL 

Cautioning  Phouts  that  all  must  bo  done  in  secrecy,  Brady 
went  to  General  Broadhead  to  obtain  permission.  This  was  read- 
ily given,  but  with  such  affectionate  cautions  and  admonitions  on 
the  part  of  the  superior  officer  as  to  affect  both,  and  Brady  left 
the  general  "with  tears  in  his  eyes." 

He  lost  no  time,  however,  in  making  the  necessary  prepara- 
tions, so  that,  about  two  hours  before  daybreak,  after  having  ob- 
tained a  little  sleep,  the  men  left  the  fort,  and  marched  that  day 
through  woods  that  neither  of  them  had  ever  traversed  before. 
Encamping  the  first  night  near  a  small  creek,  they  found  near 
their  resting  place  a  lick  apparently  much  frequented  by  the  deer, 
and  killed  one  of  these  animals.  A  portion  of  the  flesh  served 
for  their  supper,  and  a  part  was  "jerked/'  to  form  provision  for 
them  when  other  could  not  be  conveniently  gotten. 

Late  in  the  second  day,  they  saw  a  number  of  crows  hovering 
over  the  trees  at  a  certain  point  near  the  bank  of  the  river.  Feel- 
ing sure  that  there  must  be  an  encampment  there,  but  not  know- 
ing whether  it  was  of  white  or  red  men,  Brady  decided  to  use 
caution  in  approaching  it,  much  to  the  disgust  of  Phouts,  who 
wanted  to  go  and  see. 

""We  must  secrete  ourselves  until  after  night/'  said  the  captain, 
"  and  then  we  can  see  by  the  light  of  the  fires  that  they  will  kin- 
dle, whether  they  are  white  or  red." 

Waiting  until  about  ten  o'clock  at  night,  they  cautiously  ap- 
proached the  spot,  and  found  the  camp  to  be  that  of  a  party  of 
Indians  far  too  numerous  for  them  to  attack,  although  Phouts 
'rather  insisted  upon  shooting  an  old  Indian  who  was  sitting  by 
the  fire  making  a  moccasin. 

Trusting  in  the  judgment  of  his  leader,  however,  as  a  child 
trusts  in  the  wisdom  of  its  mother,  he  allowed  the  old  Indian  to 
stitch  away  at  his  moccasin  in  safety,  while,  before  daybreak, 
the  two  white  men  retired  a  little  distance  into  the  woods.  They 
had  seen  but  the  one  savage,  although  it  was  a  large  encampment, 
and  finding  the  trail  of  a  considerable  party  in  the  woods,  Brady 
concluded  that  there  were  no  more  there;  that  the  others  had 
gone  off  on  some  expedition  up  the  Alleghany.  Determining  to 
take  the  old  Indian  prisoner,  he  communicated  his  plans  to 
Phouts,  and  the  two  crept  cautiously  to  the  camp  again.  As  they 
could  not  tell  certainly  whether  there  were  Indians  within  hear- 
ing or  not,  he  dared  not  use  his  rifle,  lest  the  report  should  call 
them  down  upon  him.  They  found  the  Indian  lying  upon  the 


SAMUEL  &RA&Y.  185 

ground,  his  head  towards  them,  and  Brady  succeeded  in  getting 
very  near  him  without  even  alarming  the  dog  lying  heside  him 
asleep.  Springing  suddenly  up,  he  caught  the  Indian  by  the 
throat,  and  lifting  his  tomhawk,  bade  him  surrender.  The  old 
warrior  quailed  before  the  glance  of  the  white  man's  eye,  and 
yielded  to  his  iron  grip.  Being  told  that  they  were  going  to  take 
him  to  Pittsburgh,  the  Indian  pointed  out  to  them  the  place 
where  the  canoes  had  been  hidden,  and  supplied  with  means  of 
transportation,  they  started  towards  their  first  encampment,  in 
order  to  secure  the  jerked  venison  which  they  had  left  there. 
Landing  a  short  distance  below,  a  fire  was  kindled,  and  Phouts 
left  as  a  guard  upon  the  old  Indian,  while  Brady  ascended  the 
creek  to  secure  the  meat.  During  his  absence,  the  wily  savage 
complained  to  Phouts  that  the  cords  which  bound  his  wrists  hurt 
him,  and  the  good-hearted,  unsuspecting  man  removed  them.  The 
Indian  professed  great  gratitude,  but,  the  instant  that  Phouts 
looked  away  from  him,  possessed  himself  of  his  gun,  and  pointed 
it  at  the  Dutchman's  breast  as  he  turned.  Bewildered  by  this  rap- 
idity of  action,  which  he  had  not  time  to  comprehend,  Phouts 
jumped  aside  with  a  tremendous  roar  just  as  the  Indian  pulled 
the  trigger ;  and  knowing  by  instinct  that  Indians  were  made  to 
be  killed,  in  another  instant  his  tomahawk  had  cleft  the  skull  of 
the  savage.  Brady  heard  the  report  of  the  rifle  and  his  compan- 
ion's outcry,  and  returned  in  haste.  He  found  Phouts  sitting 
astride  the  body  of  the  Indian,  examining  his  shot-pouch,  which 
had  been  pierced  by  the  ball. 

"  See  here,  Captain,"  he  said,  holding  it  up,  "vas  dat  tamned 
red  rascal  has  tone." 

Taking  the  scalp  of  the  Indian,  they  continued  their  march, 
and  arrived  at  the  fort  on  the  fourth  day  from  their  departure. 
Brady  described  to  Gen.  Broadhead  what  he  had  observed ;  adding 
that  he  thought  the  Indians  whose  trail  he  had  seen  were  on  their 
way  to  attack  the  settlements  on  the  Susquehanna.  This  alarm- 
ed the  commander,  as  he  had  recently  made  a  requisition  of  men, 
and  he  feared  their  being  drawn  into  an  ambuscade. 

But  the  Indians,  having  discovered  by  various  indications  tha 
the  whites  were  aware  of  their  movements,  postponed  the  con- 
templated attack  for  an  indefinite  time.  In  the  interval  of  quiet, 
they  met  with  an  unexpected  triumph;  a  large  party  of  warriors, 
one  day,  captured  a  single  white  hunter,  and  brought  him  alive 
into  the  Indian  camp.  Small  cause  for  rejoicing,  it  seems  at  first 


CAPTAIN   SAMUEL 

glance;  but  that  one  man  was,  in  their  eyes  at  least,  the  greatest 
of  their  enemies  ;  a  man  whose  hatred  of  the  savages  was  equal- 
led only  by  his  daring  courage  and  his  skill  in  detecting  all  their 
artifices,  in  tracking  them,  in  crushing  them  to  the  earth.  No 
wonder  that  there 'were  high  festivities  in  the  camp  to  which  the 
warriors  took  their  captive,  Samuel  Brady.  His  scalp  would 
have  been  worth  much  to  them,  but  alive,  with  full  capacity  for 
suffering  any  tortures,  he  was  worth  much  more.  It  was  this 
feeling  that  nerved  the  arm  of  every  warrior  to  give  a  sharper 
blow,  as  the  feared  and  hated  enemy  ran  the  gauntlet;  it  was 
this  that  inspired  the  squaws  and  boys  to  utter  more  fiendish 
yells  as  they  danced  around  him,  when,  stripped  and  unbound,  he 
awaited  the  completion  of  their  preparations.  Yells,  threats, 
abuses,  curses,  saluted  his  ears  as  he  stood  by  the  fire  kindled 
for  the  torture.  Once,  his  name  had  been  their  terror ;  the  squaw 
of  the  Long-knife  had  hushed  her  frightened  children  to  rest  by 
the  assurance  that  Captain  Brady  and  his  rangers  were  on  the 
alert,  and  no  danger  could  befall  them;  the  squaw  of  the  Seneca 
warrior  had  told  her  children  that  Captain  Brady  would  hear 
their  voices,  and,  terrified,  they  were  quieted.  But  he  was  in  their 
power,  now  ;  he  could  not  harm  even  that  young  squaw,  who  car- 
ried in  her  arms  her  pappoose,  the  child  of  a  great  chief.  Nearer 
and  nearer  came  the  throng  circling  around  him,  as  their  sense 
of  his  helplessness  increased;  nearer  and  nearer,  with  the  rest, 
came  that  squaw  of  the  chief,  bearing  her  child  in  her  arms. 
Quick  as  thought,  he  snatched  the  infant  from  her,  and  threw  it 
towards  the  fire.  Horrified  at  this  action,  the  Indians,  with  one 
accord,  rushed  to  rescue  the  child,  and  Brady,  springing  past 
them,  gained  the  adjacent  thicket.  Eecalled  in  an  instant  to  the 
necessity  of  securing  him,  they  pursued  him  in  hot  haste.  Scores 
of  bullets  whistled  about  his  ears,  but  untouched  he  made  his  way 
to  the  deep  ravines  and  laurel  thickets  where  a  regiment  might 
be  concealed.  Guided  by  the  unerring  instinct  of  the  woodsman, 
and  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  country,  he  reached  Fort 
Mclntosh  in  safety. 

Brady's  daring  could  give  place,  when  necessary,  to  caution ; 
a  combination  of  qualities  especially  valuable,  and  indeed  essen- 
tial, to  an  Indian  fighter.  At  one  time,  as  he  was  returning,  with 
a  considerable  body  of  rangers,  from  a  scouting  expedition,  a 
solitary  Indian  stepped  out  of  the  thicket,  fired  upon  them,  and 
instantly  retreated  to  a  deep  ravine.  Suspecting  that  he  could 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  137 

not  be  alone  in  a  place  so  well  fitted  for  an  ambuscade,  Brady 
ordered  his  men  to  tree.  Hardly  was  this  accomplished  when 
the  enemy,  despairing  of  the  success  of  their  original  plan,  is- 
sued  from  their  place  of  concealment,  and  opened  fire  upon  them. 
This  was  returned  with  fatal  effect  upon  the  Indians,  but  so  great 
was  the  number  of  the  savages  that  Brady  ordered  a  retreat 
to  the  top  of  the  hill.  From  this  point  it  was  continued  until 
the  Indians,  having  lost  about  twenty  men,  ceased  to  pursue. 
One  of  Brady's  men  was  killed,  and  two  wounded. 


THE  COUNCIL  ON  A  TREE. 

"  Brady's  Hill "  is  the  name  applied  to  a  small  eminence  near 
Beaver;  Pennsylvania,  to  commemorate  an  incident  in  our  hero's 
life.  From  the  town  mentioned,  more  familiar  to  these  pages  as 
Fort  Mclntosh,  the  gallant  scout  set  forth,  with  a  few  men, 
toward  the  Sandusky  villages.  Returning,  they  were  pursued, 
and  all  killed  but  the  leader,  who  was  forced  to  beat  a  flying 
retreat.  Reaching  the  hill  now  called  by  his  name,  the  sight  of 
a  large  tree,  recently  prostrated  by  a  storm,  suggested  a  plan  to 
him.  Once  before  such  a  tree  had  given  him  shelter  in  the  pit 
left  by  the  roots,  but  in  this  case  the  position  of  the  tree  was  re- 
versed. So  lately  had  it  been  torn  up,  however,  that  its  leafy 
crown  was  still  intact.  Walking  up  to  the  tree,  he  walked  back- 


188  CAPTAIN   SAMUEL  BRAD*. 

ward  in  his  own  footprints  for  a  space  of  a  few  hundred  yards, 
then  forward  again  to  the  trunk  in  the  same  tracks.  This  was  to 
make  the  trail  unmistakable.  Hiding  himself  in  the  thick,  leafy 
branches,  he  awaited  the  result ;  three  Indians  soon  appeared, 
carefully  following  the  trail ;  coming  to  the  tree,  it  suddenly 
failed ;  they  were  at  a  loss  to  think  what  this  could  mean,  and 
sat  down  on  the  trunk  of  the  fallen  monarch  of  the  forest  to  hold 
a  hasty  consultation.  It  was  indeed  a  short  one,  for  hardly  had 
they  settled  into  place  when  out  of  the  green  leaves  flashed  fire, 
and  at  the  sharp  crack  of  Brady's  rifle  they  all  fell  forward,  one 
dead  and  two  wounded.  Clubbing  his  gun,  he  leaped  toward  the 
Indians,  and  soon,  wTith  the  three  scalps  at  his  belt,  he  was  again 
in  the  fort. 

If  Brady's  Hill  be  the  scene  of  a  memorable  encounter,  Bra- 
dy's Run  has  also  a  history ;  the  purport  may  be  guessed  from 
the  fact  that  it  issues  from  Bloody  Spring.  At  the  head  of  this 
stream  a  war-party  of  Indians  had  encamped.  They  had  taken 
no  scalps,  but  more  than  one  house  had  been  laid  in  ruins,  and 
the  presence  of  two  helpless  white  women  and  a  number  of  little 
children  at  their  camp-fire  attested  the  prowess  of  these  so-called 
braves.  By  the  dying  fire  the  captors  and  captives  lie  asleep; 
all  is  still.  Suddenly  a  branch  snaps,  and  awakened  by  the  slight 
noise,  one  dusky  warrior  rouses  himself,  and  looks  around  in  the 
direction  whence  it  came.  Only  the  faint  chirp  of  a  distant  wood- 
cricket  is  heard,  and  he  sinks  again  into  slumber.  But  first  he 
has  stirred  the  dying  embers  of  the  fire,  and  the  flames,  leaping 
up  to  embrace  the  log  thrown  upon  them,  light  up  the  shadowy 
camp.  The  shadows  appear  and  disappear,  as  the  flames  rise  and 
sink;  but  four  dark  forms  are  there  always,  creeping  silently 
towards  the  unconscious  Indians.  Now  the  gleam  of  the  fire- 
light falls  upon  the  polished  surface  of  four  scalping  knives,  each 
held  between  the  teeth  of  a  shadow,  while  his  right  hand  clutches 
a  tomahawk.  A  low  cluck  as  they  reach  their  victims,  and  as 
one  the  four  tomahawks  descend  crushing  through  the  skulls 
of  four  sleeping  Indians.  In  an  instant  the  camp  is  in  the  wildest 
confusion.  The  savages  awake  from  their  slumbers  only  to  find 
that  Brady  is  among  them;  Brady,  whose  whole  life  is  devoted 
to  the  extermination  of  their  race.  But  they  have  hardly,  real- 
ized their  danger  before  danger  is  forever  past  for  them.  One 
after  the  other  every  Indian  falls,  and  their  captives  are  led 
back  in  safety  to  their  friends.  The  waters  of  the  spring  have 


CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY.  189 

long  since  regained -their  usual  purity,  but  still  it  bears  the  name 
of  such  ill  omen  to  the  children  of  the  forest. 

Such  were  the  deeds  that  made  the  name  of  Captain  Brady  a 
terror  to  the  Indians  of  that  section,  inspiring  them  with  a  whole- 
some awe.  Their  respect  for  his  name  was  shown  by  the  result 
of  one  of  his  solitary  expeditions,  undertaken  solely  to  bring  in 
prisoners.  Secreting  himself  near  one  of  the  Indian  towns,  ho 
marked  out  for  his  purpose  a  certain  cabin,  containing,  as  he 
knew,  a  warrior,  a  squaw,  a  boy  and  girl  and  a  pappoose.  Break- 
ing open  the  door  at  night,  he  told  them  who  he  was,  and  that 
they  must  go  with  him ;  assuring  them  of  life  if  they  went  peace- 
ably, of  death  if  they  made  any  outcry.  So  great  was  their  fear 
of  his  name  that  they  obeyed  his  commands  unhesitatingly  as  ho 
drove  them  before  him  like  a  herd  of  cattle.  He  had  expected 
to  be  hotly  pursued,  and  was  not  disappointed;  but  selecting  his 
resting  places  so  that  they  could  be  reached  only  by  wading  up  or 
down  stream,  and  traveling  only  by  night,  he  reached  his  desti- 
nation in  safety  with  his  whole  party  of  prisoners. 

In  the  region  where  so  many  places  commemorate,  by  their 
names,  his  daring  deeds,  tradition  preserves  his  fame,  and  from 
father  to  son  the  stories  are  handed  down.  But  many  such  ac- 
counts have  slept  in  the  memories  of  men,  and  have  perhaps 
passed  away  with  that  elder  generation  to  which  the  name  of 
Brady  was  a  household  word.  Upon  some,  or  at  least  one,  of  the 
more  marvelous*  tales,  our  modern  wiseacres,  finding  no  record 
save  the  uncertain  one  of  man's  memory,  have  sought  to  throw 
discredit.  The  fact  that  the  point  where  the  Cuyahoga  rushes 
through  a  narrow  fissure  in  the  rocks,  its  current  contracted  to  a 
width  of  less  than  thirty  feet,  still  bears  the  name  of  Brady's 
Leap,  is  to  them  worth  nothing.  But  Brady's  own  lips  had  told 
the  tale,  and  those  who  had  heard  it  from  him  were  not  inclined 
to  disbelieve  it. 

With  a  party  of  twenty  followers,  h'e  had  set  out  on  a  scouting 
expedition  to  the  neighborhood  of  Sandusky,  but  was  waylaid 
by  a  large  force  of  Indians  at  a  small  lake,  now  called  by  his 
name,  in  what  is  now  Portage  County,  Ohio.  From  the  sharp 
engagement  that  followed,  only  two  white  men  escaped  with 
their  lives,  Brady  being  one.  Such  was  his  first  acquaintance 
with  this  lake,  the  story  being  proven  by  the  excavations  made 
on  the  southern  shore  by  his  friends,  who  found  there  a  number 
of  skulls  and  a  sword— the  relics  of  the  fight. 


190  CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY. 

His  famous  leap  across  the  Cujahoga  was  made,  according  to 
some  authorities,  a  short  time  after  this;  according  to  others, 
when  he  escaped  from  the  Indians  by  throwing  the  child  toward 
the  fire.  It  was  probably  after  the  date  of  most  of  his  adven- 
tures, as  will  be  evident  when  we  come  to  consider  the  result. 

Hotly  pursued  from  Sandusky,  a  distance  of  about  a  hundred 
miles,  he  found  on  reaching  the  Cuyahoga,  that  his  enemies  hem- 
med him  in.  To  go  backward  was  impossible — and  how  could 


BRADY'S  LEAP. 

one  man  bridge  that  chasm,  more  than  twenty-five  feet  wide  ?  But 
there  is  no  other  way  of  escape  from  the  yelling  fiends,  and  sum- 
moning all  his  courage,  with  one  mighty  leap  he  bounds  over  the 
yawning  gulf.  Convulsively  his  hands  clutch  at  the  bushes 
growing  on  the  bluff  he  had  gained ;  but  they  give  way ;  down, 
down,  he  slips  almost  his  own  height;  but  the  iron  nerves  do  not 
fail  him,  the  sinewy  hands  grasp  still  other  supports,  and  he  con- 
tinues his  flight.  The  savages  stand  on  the  othey  bank,  for  a 
a  moment,  motionless  with  astonishment;  quickly  recovering 
themselves,  three  or  four  fire  at  him,  hitting  him  in  the  leg. 

Notwithstanding  his  wound,  Brady  continued  to  run.  The 
Indians  left  the  steep  cliff,  and  crossed  the  river  at  the  Standing 
Stone,  where  the  more  gently  sloping  banks  enabled  them  to  ap- 


CAPTAIN   SAMUEL   BRADY.  191 

proach  the  water.  Finding  them  still  in  hot  pursuit,  Brady  bent 
his  way  towards  the  lake  now  bearing  his  name,  and  plunged 
into  its  waters.  The  savages  were  gaining  rapidly  on  him,  and 
his  wound  so  impeded  his  flight  that  he  knew  concealment  was 
necessary.  Striking  out,  then,  towards  a  part  of  the  lake  that  was 
covered  with  the  broad  leaves  and  white  blossoms  of  the  water- 
lily,  the  hollow,  flexible  stems  of  these  attracted  his  attention, 
and  he  found,  by  experimenting,  that  he  could  breathe  through 
one  of  these,  and  thus  keep  his  head  under  water. 

The  Indians  followed  his  bloody  trail  to  the  water's  edge,  and 
finding  it  end  there,  were  at  a  loss.  Examining  carefully  the 
shores  of  the  lake,  they  concluded  that  he  had  not  emerged ;  that, 
exhausted  by  his  wound,  he  had  been  accidentally  drowned,  or 
had  preferred  that  death  to  a  bloodier  one  at  the  hands  of  his 
enemies.  All  the  remainder  of  the  day,  and  part  of  the  night 
they  spent  in  searching  for  him,  dead  or  alive,  but  finally  gave 
it  up,  and  returned  to  make  a  more  careful  survey  of  the  spot 
where  he  had  cleared  the  river  at  a  bound.  As  soon  as  he  felt  it 
safe  to  do  so,  Brady  left  the  water,  and  succeeded  in  making  his 
escape  to  the  settlement. 

Returning  to  the  river,  the  Indians  carefully  inspected  the 
spot,  measuring  by  their  eye  the  distance  as  accurately  as  they 
could ;  and  arrived  at  a  very  singular  conviction :  none  of  them, 
they  felt  assured,  could  leap  it ;  since  it  was  impossible  to  them, 
it  would  be  ridiculous  to  suppose  a  white  man  could  do  it;  the 
evidence  of  their  eyes,  of  course,  could  not  be  disregarded,  but 
they  reconciled  the  fact  and  its  impossibility  by  the  sage  conclu- 
sion: "He  no  man,  he  no  jump  across  the  river;  he  wild-turkey, 
he  fly." 

And  so  convinced  were  they  of  this,  that  they  carved  upon  the 
rock  to  which  he  had  leaped,  the  rude  representation  of  a  wild- 
turkey's  foot.  This  token  of  an  exhibition  of  physical  power 
beyond  the  belief  of  even  eye-witnesses  remained  there  until  the 
summer  of  1856,  when,  as  the  rock  was  to  be  quarried,  Judge 
Moses  Hampton,  of  Pittsburgh,  obtained  permission  to  cut  it  out. 
The  distance  has  been  several  times  measured,  the  measurements 
varying  from  twenty-five  to  twenty-seven  and  a  half  feet,  the 
steep  cliffs  on  either  side  rising  to  a  height  of  some  thirty  feet 
above  the  surface  of  the  water. 

The  events  of  Brady's  private  life  are  almost  unknown  to 
us.  He  was  ma,rried;  probably  in  1786,  to  Miss  Prusillft  Van 


192  CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY. 

S.wearingen,  the  daughter  of  an  officer  in  Gen.  Morgan's  Eifle 
Corps.  Whether  this  marriage  was  the  result  of  the  similar  opin- 
ions on  the  Indian  question  which  were  entertained  by  Captains 
Yan  Swearingen  and  Brady,  we  cannot  tell ;  certainly  the  elder 
officer  was  nicknamed  "Indian  Yan."  Mrs.  Brady  had  been  edu- 
cated in  the  east,  and  was  noted  for  her  beauty,  accomplishments, 
and  amiable  disposition.  She  had  need  of  much  fortitude  to  en- 
dure the  anxiety  which  her  husband's  frequent  absence,  among 
dangers  which  could  not  be  exaggerated,  must  have  caused  her. 

Brady  was  at  one  time  brought  to  trial  for  killing,  in  time  of 
peace,  a  party  of  Indians,  but  succeeded  in  proving  that  this  was 
but  punishment  due  them,  as  they  had  made  a  raid  upon  the  set- 
tlements on  the  frontier.  So  quickly  had  the  punishment  come, 
that  the  offence  had  hardly  been  heard  of  before  Brady  was  tri- 
umphantly acquitted,  not  only  by  the  jury,  but  by  public  opinion. 
One  witness  for  the  defense  was  G-uyasutha,  the  Mingo  chief,  who 
swore  to  everything  that  he  thought  would  be  in  Brady's  favor, 
whether  it  were  true  or  not ;  and  defended  himself  afterwards  by 
urging  his  friendship  for  the  captain. 

The  wound  received  after  leaping  the  river  rendered  Brady 
lame  for  life ;  and  he  attributed  to  his  lying  so  long  under  water 
in  the  lake,  the  deafness  which  afterward  afflicted  him.  Although 
comparatively  a  young  man  when  he  died,  he  had  the  appearance 
of  being  much  older  than  he  really  was.  The  date  of  his  death 
is  uncertain,  being  probably  about  the  year  1800.  The  last  years 
of  his  life  were  spent  in  "West  Liberty,  "West  Yirginia,  and  here 
he  died,  his  wife  and  two  sons  surviving  him.  Knowing  not  the 
date  of  his  birth  or  of  his  death,  we  have  only  the  memory  of  the 
"  deeds  of  derring  do,"  left  to  us. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

A  COMPETENT  authority  says  that  at  least  thirty  places  in 
the  United  States  bear  the  name  of  Daniel  Boone,  the  best 
known  pioneer,  perhaps,  of  the  country;  certain  it  is  that  eight 
states  contain  counties  thus  designated — monuments  of  love  and 
admiration  for  a  man  upon  whose  like  we  shall  not  look  again. 

Born  in  "Western  Virginia  or  Pennsylvania,  in  1735,  his  earliest 
years  were  spent  in  the  unsettled  forests.  His  father  removed  to 
the  banks  of  the  Eadkin  Eiver,  in  North  Carolina,  when  he  was 
but  a  boy.  He  had  already  acquired  something  of  that  skill  with 
the  rifle,  so  necessary  to  the  frontiersman,  and  for  which  he  be- 
came so  eminent.  When  a  very  young  man,  he  saw  a  pair  of  large, 
soft  eyes  gleaming  in  a  thicket;  the  ready  gun  was  leveled  and 
fired,  but  the  deer  bounded  aside;  with  quick  foot  the  young 
hunter  followed  his  game  through  the  wood,  and  at  last  came  to 
a  clearing,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  a  settler's  cabin ;  in  this 
he  sought  shelter  for  the  night,  and  it  was  not  refused  him ;  to 
do  the  honors  to  the  young  stranger,  the  members  of  the  family 
hushed  the  excitement  which  had  prevailed  among  them ;  but 
they  had  not  acquired  the  power  of  entirely  concealing  their  feel- 
ings, and  he  soon  learned  that,  as  the  daughter  of  the  house  and 
her  little  brother  were  returning  through  the  woods  from  a  neigh- 
bor's, some  one,  Indian  or  white  man  they  could  not  tell,  had  fired 
at  them,  and  chased  them  almost  to  the  very  door. 

Boone  listened  to  the  recital,  and  for  once  was  glad  that  he  had 
missed  his  aim.  But  though  unsuccessful  as  a  hunter  in  bringing 
down  his  game,  better  luck  attended  his  efforts  as  a  lover,  and  a 
long  and  happy  life  followed  the  marriage  which  took  place  soon 
afterward,  between  him  and  the  owner  of  the  soft  eyes  that  had 
deceived  him. 

But  sparsely  settled  as  it  was,  the  state,  in  a  few  years,  became 
too  populous  for  the  exercise  of  a  hunter's  vocation,  an4  Boone. 


194 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


determined  to  remove  to  a  wilder  country.  In  the  early  part  of 
May,  1769,  he,  in  company  with  John  Stewart  and  four  other 
men,  left  his  home  in  North  Carolina  and  journeyed  towards  the 
"Dark  and  Bloody  Ground,"  west  of  Virginia,  and  lying  between 
the  homes  of  the  northwestern  and  the  southern  tribes  of  Indians. 

This  country,  long  before 
known  to  the  savages  as 
Kantuckee,  was  regarded 
by  them  as  neutral  ground, 
not  to  be  used  as  a  habita- 
tion by  those  of  either 
section.  As  a  natural  con- 
sequence of  this,  it  became 
the  wandering  place  of 
vast  herds  of  buffalo  and 
deer,  the  wild  duck  linger- 
ed in  its  streams,  the  wild 
turkeys  dwelt  on  its  hills, 
and  the  forests  were  full 
^flife.  A  paradise  for  the 
sportsman,  truly  ;  and  the 
wild  hunters  of  the  sur- 
rounding tribes  had  long 
ago  discovered  this.  This 
was  the  destination  of 
many  of  their  great  hunt- 
ing parties,  and  here, 
when  North  and  South 
met  upon  this  common  ter- 
ritory, many  a  bloody 
conflict  justified  the  name 
they  had  given  to  it.  To 

DAXIEL  BOONE.  the  wild  men  of  the  woods 

the  possession  of  a  hunting  ground  meant  subsistence  5  the  pres- 
ence of  the  white  man,  destruction.  Their  fathers  had  been  driv- 
en toward  the  sunset  far  enough ;  here  they  would  stay ;  and  arm- 
ing themselves  with  all  the  grim  determination  that  an  Indian 
could  summon,  they  fought  the  white  men  who  invaded  their 
land. 

The  six  men  who  left  the  banks  of  the  Eadkin  Eiver  in  the 
Spring  of  1769,  were  determined  to  establish  themselves  in  the 


COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 


195 


western  paradise  j  and  although  not  forgetful  of  the  danger  that 
awaited  them,  they  pushed  defiantly  forward.  Early  in  June 
they  reached  the  Eed  Kiver,  and  there  encamped,  living  on  the 
game  which  they  killed,  and  the  fruits  which  abounded  in  the  un- 
cultivated regions,  better  fare  than  French  cook  ever  prepared, 
for  hungry  borderers.  Of  the  adventures  of  nearly  seven  months 
we  know  nothing  ;  the  triumphs  of  the  hunter,  and  the  pioneer's 
escape  from  danger  are  forgotten ;  absolutely  no  chronicle  of  this 


CAPTURE  OF  BOONE  AND  STEWART. 

time  remains  to  us.  Dec.  22nd  of  the  same  year  is  a  more  mem- 
orable date,  for  then,  to  use  the  old  hunter's  own  words:  "John 
Stewart  and  I  had  a  pleasing  ramble,  but  ^  fortune  changed  the 


scene. 


13 


196  COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

It  was  nearly  the  evening  of  the  short  December  day,  when,  as 
the  two  hunters  ascended  a  slight  eminence  overlooking  the  Ken- 
tucky river,  a  party  of  Indians  rushed  from  a  neighboring  cane- 
brake,  surrounded  and  captured  them.  For  seven  days  they  were 
prisoners,  uncertain  what  fate  awaited  them.  Had  there  been 
Toothing  else,  the  natural  enmity  of  the  two  races  might  have 
decided  the  fate  of  the  captives  adversely;  but  the  cool  and 
manly  bearing  of  Boone  doubtless  impressed  the  savage  who  so 
much  desired  those  qualities  for  himself.  At  any  rate,  the  entire 
absence  of  resistance  lulled  the  captors  into  a  false  security,  and 
they  slept,  leaving  the  prisoners  unbound.  Eising  from  his  place 
so  lightly  as  not  to  disturb  the  Indians  about  him,  Boone  sought 
out  his  companion,  silently  aroused  him,  and  together  they  fled. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  the  dismay  which  was  in  that  circle  of  war- 
riors the  next  morning  !  "Whether  the  captives'  fate  was  to  have 
been  torture  or  adoption  (the  usual  alternatives)  the  disappoint- 
ment was  equally  great;  they  had  been  robbed  of  enjoyment,  or 
their  friendship  had  been  rejected. 

Arriving  at  the  camp  where,  a  week  before,  they  had  left  their 
four  companions,  they  found  it  despoiled  of  all  the  implements  of 
pioneer  life,  and  no  trace  of  their  friends.  These,  probably  ter- 
rified by  the  mishap  of  Boone  and  Stewart,  had  departed  from 
the  dangers  of  that  country  forever.  The  others,  however,  were 
of  sterner  stuff;  if  danger  dwelt  in  the  wilderness,  there  was  hap- 
piness, too,  and  they  had  no  notion  of  missing  the  one  by  shun- 
ning the  other. 

Before  long,  however,  there  came  new  companions.  Wander- 
ing through  the  forest,  in  search  of  Boone,  came  his  brother 
Squire  and  another  adventurer.  The  veriest  stranger  would  have 
been  welcomed  by  the  lonely  hunters,  and  we  may  conjecture  the 
reception  that  awaited  Squire  Boone.  But  the  little  band  of 
hunters  were  soon  to  be  reduced  to  the  same  number  as  before, 
for  Stewart  was  killed  by  the  Indians  late  in  the  winter  or  early 
in  the  spring,  and  the  man  who  had  accompanied  Squire  Boone 
returned  home. 

The  two  brothers  were  now  left  alone  in  ihe  wilderness.  What- 
ever dangers  may  have  beset  them,  they  escaped  ;  and  building 
a  cottage  to  defend  themselves  from  the  storms  of  winter,  for  sev- 
eral months  they  lived  sufficient  for  each  other.  Whether  the 
modesty  which  characterizes  true  courage  prevents  Boone  from 
telling  us  the  perils  of  this  year,  or  whether  his  self-reliance,  Ms 


COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE.  197 

coolness,  his  forethought,  united  to  his  bravery  and  his  excel- 
lence in  woodcraft  inspired  the  savages  with  such  respect  that 
they  let  the  brothers  live  in  peace,  we  cannot  tell;  but  he  speaks 
of  their  enjoyment  of  this  life. 

The  first  of  May,  1770,  Squire  Boone  set  off  to  the  settlements, 
in  order  to  obtain  horses  and  ammunition,  Daniel  being  left  at 
the  camp,  without  bread,  salt  or  sugar.  More  than  the  lack  of 
these  articles  of  food  was  the  entire  absence  of  companionship ; 
not  a  horse  or  a  dog  cheered  his  solitude,  and  yet  the  unlettered 
woodsman  found  pleasure  in  the  vast  wilderness.  Eoaming  away 
from  the  lonely,  cabin,  he  spent  days  and  nights  in  the  trackless 
forest,  returning  to  find  that  the  foe  had  come  in  his  absence. 
Often  he  lay  throughout  the  night  in  thick  canebrakes,  in  order 
that  he  might  not  be  present  to  receive  such  visits ;  and  here  the 
prowling  wolves  made  night  hideous,  so  that  he  dared  not  sleep 
too  soundly.  But  though  he  so  fully  appreciated  the  dangers  by 
which  he  was  surrounded,  and  so  carefully  guarded  himself  from 
them,  it  ended  there  ;  fear  had  no  part  in  his  nature,  and  he  was 
fully  able  to  appreciate  the  "  beauty  in  the  pathless  woods,"  for 
no  abject  terror  of  the  denizens  of  the  forest  disturbed  the  calm 
balance  of  his  mind. 

Towards  the  end  of  July  his  brother  returned,  and  not  think- 
ing it  safe  to  remain  in  that  place  any  longer,  they  shifted  their 
quarters  to  the  banks  of  the  Cumberland  River,  whence  in  March, 
1771,  he  returned  home  in  order  to  bring  his  family  to  the  wild 
home  he  had  chosen. 

Much  time,  however,  was  consumed  in  the  necessary  prepara- 
tions ;  but  at  last  the  farm  was  sold,  horses  and  supplies  pur- 
chased, and  in  September,  1773,  they  left  the  old  home  for  the 
new.  At  Powell's  Yalley,  they  were  joined  by  five  other  families, 
and  a  company  of  forty  able-bodied  men,  the  whole  party  being 
well  equipped  with  provisions  and  ammunition.  In  high  spirits 
they  journeyed  onward,  meeting  with  no  accident  or  alarm  until 
October  6,  nearly  two  weeks  from  the  time  that  the  Boone  family 
left  home.  On  this  day,  as  they  were  approaching  Cumberland 
Gap,  a  pass  in  the  mountains,  the  young  men  who  were  driving  the 
cattle,  and  who  had  fallen  five  or  six  miles  in  the  rear  of  the  main 
body,  were  suddenly  attacked  by  the  Indians.  Six  of  their  num- 
ber were  slain,  one  being  the  eldest  son  of  Daniel  Boone ;  a  seventh 
escaped  with  a  wound ;  the  cattle  were  all  dispersed  in  the  woods. 
The  reports  of  the  rifles  recalled  the  main  body  of  pioneers,  but 


198  COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

it  was  too  late;  the  savages  had  vanished  before  they  could  come 
up ;  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  bury  the  dead. 

Disheartened  by  this  sad  experience,  many  of  the  men,  in  the 
council  held  immediately  after,  urged  a  return  to  the  settlements. 
Despite  his  own  sad  loss,  however,  Boone  strenuously  opposed 
this,  and  was  earnestly  supported  by  his  brother  ;  but  even  their 
united  persuasions  were  of  no  avail ;  and  yielding  to  the  argu- 
ments of  the  majority,  they  returned  with  the  whole  party  to  the 
settlement  on  the  Clinch  River,  in  the  southwestern  part  of  Yir- 
ginia,  and  forty  miles  from  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 

Boone  always  regarded  himself  as  an  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  Providence  to  effect  the  settlement  of  Kentucky;  but  the  tim- 
idity of  his  companions  at  this  point  in  his  life  averted  a  great 
danger.  If  the  advice  of  the  two  brothers  had  prevailed,  there 
would  have  been  left  not  one  to  tell1  the  story  of  an  Indian  mas- 
sacre. It  was  in  consequence  of  the  murder  of  the  family  of 
Logan,  the  eloquent  Indian  chief  whose  own  words  tell  his  mis- 
fortunes better  than  any  others  could,  that  the  terrible  Dunmore 
"War  broke  out  early  in  the  year  1774. 

It  was  after  the  beginning  of  this  war,  but  before  it>had  attain- 
ed its  height,  that  Grov.  Dunmore  of  Virginia  solicited  Boone  and 
a  companion  woodsman  to  go  to  the  falls  of  the  Ohio  and  con- 
duct thence  a  party  of  engineers,  whom  he  had  sent  there  some 
months  before.  This  task  was  performed  with  safety  and  des- 
patch, a  round  trip  of  eight  hundred  miles  being  accomplished 
in  sixty-two  days. 

After  his  return,  the  war  being  now  at  its  height,  Boone  was 
given  the  command  of  three  contiguous  garrisons  on  the  frontier. 
After  this  fight,  in  which  about  fifteen  hundred  warriors  of  the 
Shawnecs,  Delawares,  Mingos,  Wyandots  and  Cayugas  were  de- 
feated by  the  whites,  these  tribes  sued  for  peace,  relinquishing 
all  title  to  Kentucky.  The  Six  Nations,  by  treaty,  and  the  Cher- 
okees,  by  sale,  had  dispossessed  themselves  previously  to  this 
time ;  so  that  when  Boone  took  his  family  and  household  gods 
into  Kentucky,  it  was  into  a  region  abandoned  by  its  native  lords 
to  the  white  men. 

Boone  had  been  present  at  the  making  of  the  treaty  by  which 
the  Cherokees  sold  their  lands,  being  sent  to  represent  the  pur- 
chasers, a  company  of  adventurous  speculators  of  which  a  per- 
sonal friend,  Col.  Richard  Henderson,  was  the  moving  spirit.  In- 
cleedj  it  was  in  consequence  of  the  hardy  pioneer's  glowing  ac- 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE.  199 

count  of  Kentucky,  its  rich  plains  and  game-abounding  forests, 
that  many  such  companies  had  been  formed  in  Virginia  and 
North  Carolina,  for  the  purpose  of  colonization. 

A  small  company  of  brave  and  hardy  men  was  soon  collected, 
and  sent,  under  the  leadership  of  Boone,  to  open  a  road  from  the 
Holston  to  the  Kentucky  Eiver,  and  to  build  a  fort  where  Otter 
Creek  empties  itself  into  the  latter.  The  Indian  has  not  the  pa- 
tient, far-seeing  courage  which  a  siege  demands  ;  his  victory  must 
be  won  by  a  single  wild  onslaught  from  his  ambush  in  the  forest, 
upon  those  who  have  no  defense  but  their  right  hands,  weaken- 
ed by  the  surprise  of  unexpected  attack.  Hewn  logs  are  bullet 
proof,  and  hence  a  sufficient  defense.  As  the  fort  built  at  Boones- 
borough  was  similar  to  those  soon  scattered  all  over  the  coun- 
try, a  description  of  that  will  be  sufficient  for  all. 

Oblong  in  shape,  the  sides  were  composed  of  cabins,  separated 
by  stockades ;  the  walls  of  these  buildings  were  about  ten  or 
twelve  feet  high  on  the  outer  side,  sloping  downward  as  they 
neared  the  inner  opening.  At  each  of  the  four  corners  was  a 
building  two  stories  in  height,  and  projecting  some  two  feet  each 
way  farther  than  the  cabins  described  ;  the  second  story  extend- 
ing a  foot  and  half  or  two  feet  beyond  the  walls  of  the  ground 
floor.  These  corner  buildings,  larger  and  stronger  than  the  others, 
and  called  block-houses,  were  by  their  construction  enabled  to 
command  the  whole  outer  wall  of  the  fort,  and  even  if  the  sav- 
ages had  forced  their  way  into  the  enclosure,  the  garrison  could 
for  some  time  defend  themselves  in  one  of  the  block-houses.  Two 
large  folding  gates,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  fort,  and  made  of 
thick  wooden  slabs,  provided  means  of  entering  and  leaving  the 
fort.  Of  course  the  enclosures  varied  in  size,  and  in  some  cases, 
only  one  or  two  block-houses  were  built;  the  fort  at  Boones- 
borough  has  been  estimated  to  have  covered  a  space  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  by  two  hundred  and  sixty  feet.  Eude  as  they  were, 
these  log  cabins,  with  puncheon,  or  perhaps  earthen  floors,  built 
without  nails,  or  any  iron  whatever,  they  must  yet  have  seemed 
heaven  to  the  terrified  settler  who,  hearing  the  dread  tidings  of 
massacre  so  common  then,  fled  from  his  little  clearing  in  the 
woods,  where  a  cabin  of  the  same  kind,  but  solitary  and  insecure, 
was  his  home.  And  on  the  14th  of  June,  1774,  after  a  journey 
during  which  five  of  their  number  had  been  killed  by  the  Indians, 
and  after  laboring  more  than  two  months,  they  saw  the  fort  at 
Boonesborough  completed. 


200  COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

In  September  or  October  of  the  same  year,  the  last  tie  which 
bound  Daniel  Boone  to  any  other  than  his  chosen  dwelling  place 
in  the  wilderness  was  broken ;  for  then  he  led  his  family  and  a 
few  followers  once  more  towards  that  which  his  daring  and  skill 
had  made  a  home.  Joined  in  Powell's  Yalley  by  new  recruits, 
the  little  company  consisted  of  twenty-six  men,  four  women,  and 
four  or  five  boys  and  girls.  At  the  head  of  Dick's  Eiver,  some 
few  of  these  had  separated  themselves  from  the  rest  in  order  to 
join  the  settlers  at  Harrodsburg,  in  the  interior  of  the  state;  so 
that  it  was  less  than  thirty,  perhaps  barely  twenty  persons,  who 
pushed  on  towards  Boonesborough  ;  "  my  wife  and  daughter,"  as 
the  old  man  afterwards  recorded  with  some  pride,  "  being  the 
first  white  women  that  ever  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky 
Eiver." 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  British  officers  endeavored  in  every 
way  to  excite  the  animosity  of  the  Indians  towards  all  settlers 
in  this  region,  and  even  furnished  the  savages  with  arms  and  am- 
munition, the  little  colony  at  Boonesborough  remained  for  some 
time  undisturbed.  This  was  doubtless  due  in  part  to  Gen.  George 
Eogers  Clarke,  whom  the  Yirginia  Legislature  sent  with  a  force 
to  protect  the  western  settlements,  and  who,  rejecting  the  belt 
which  the  treacherous  savages  offered  as  a  token  of  peace,  did 
good  service  in  the  defense  of  the  colonists ;  but  much  of  the  se- 
curity must  be  explained  by  the  character  of  the  pioneers  them- 
selves. The  winter  and  spring  of  1776  were  passed  by  the  set- 
tlers in  hunting,  fishing,  clearing  and  planting.  Suddenly,  one 
day  in  the  winter,  as  they  were  engaged  in  their  usual  work,  a 
small  band  of  marauding  Indians  appeared,  and  in  the  -skirmish 
that  ensued,  one  of  the  whites  was  killed.  Then  the  red  men  de- 
parted as  suddenly  as  they  had  come,  and  the  settlers  were  un- 
molested during  the  next  half  year. 

It  was  on  the  fourteenth  of  July  of  the  same  year,  that  three 
young  girls,  Miss  Betsey  Callaway,  her  sister  Frances,  and  Dan- 
iel Boone's  daughter  Jemima,  were  in  a,  canoe  on  the  Kentucky 
Eiver,  within  sight  of  Boonestorough.  Eaised  in  the  frontier 
district  of  North  Carolina  and  Yirginia,  and  accustomed  for  near- 
ly two  years  to  the  pioneer  life  of  the  Kentucky  fort,  they  had 
no  fear  of  the  boundless  forest  or  the  rushing  river.  The  pre- 
sence of  danger  was  a  thing  unheeded,  because  so  intimately 
known.  But  even  a  braver  heart,  if  such  ever  beat  in  a  woman's 
breast,  would  have  quailed  at  the  sight  of  a  swarthy  form  mov- 


202  COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

ing  through  the  water,  the  slight  boat  in  which  they  were  follow- 
ing as  surely  as  though  drawn  by  some  demoniac  enchantment. 
The  terrified  girls  clung  to  each  other,  not  knowing  what  was  to 
befall  them.  Steadily  the  canoe  moved  to  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  and  now,  in  the  stream  and  the  forest,  appeared  other  dark 
faces,  gleaming  with  triumph.  Within  the  fort,  all  seemed  for  a 
moment  confusion,  but  a  calm  intelligence  brought  order  out  of 
chaos,  and  despite  the  fact  that  their  canoe  had  been  left  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  a  party  under  the  leadership  of  Captain 
Boone  was  soon  on  the  track  of  the  savages. 

Care,  as  well  as  swiftness,  was  necessary ;  excite  his  wrath  by 
too  merciless  a  pursuit,  and  the  tomahawk,  raised  against  those 
three  defenceless  heads,  would  make  a  failure  of  success.  More 
than  thirty  miles  the  track  was  followed,  through  the  densest 
cane  brakes  and  on  the  path  of  the  buffalo ;  nearly  fifty  miles 
from  the  fort,  the  pursuers  overtook  them  just  as  they  were  kin- 
dling a  fire  to  cook.  The  watchfulness  of  the  Indians  was  not 
less  than  the  carefulness  of  the  pioneers,  for  each  saw  the  other 
at  about  the  same  time.  A  short,  sharp  report,  of  four  rifles  at 
once ;  the  red  men  fly ;  two  more  rifle  shots,  and  two  of  the  In- 
dians fall,  one  slain  by  Boone,  and  one  by  Col.  Floyd ;  the  others 
escape,  but  without  a  moccasin,  knife  or  tomahawk,  with  only 
one  shot-gun,  and  no  ammunition,  losing  of  course  their  captives. 

This  was  the  only  exciting  event  of  the  year  to  the  colony. 
From  time  to  time  a  new  member  was  added  to  their  society,  and 
everything  progressed  quietly.  Heart-rending  as  the  anxiety  of 
the  parents  must  have  been  when  the  three  girls  were  captured, 
the  alarm  thus  given  prevented,  perhaps,  a  greater  disaster. 

Even  on  the  day  of  the  capture,  some  other  parties  had  at- 
tacked several  stations ;  and  the  settlers  living  out  of  the  forts 
were  harassed ;  many  men  were  killed,  and  most  of  the  cattle 
were  destroyed.  So  general  and  great  was  the  alarm,  that  about 
three  hundred  speculators  and  adventurers  returned  to  their  old 
homes  east  of  the  mountains. 

By  April  of  the  succeeding  year,  however,  Boonesborough 
could  no  longer  claim  to  be  exempt  from  the  sieges  that  other 
forts  had  suffered.  A  hundred  Indians  gathered  about  the  fort, 
and  advanced  to  attack  it  with  all  the  horrid  din  which  incites 
them  to  conflict.  But  the  same  cool  intelligence  which  had  de- 
feated them  before,  was  against  them  now.  The  sharp  crack  of 
the  rifle,  aimed  by  the  unerring  marksmen  within,  was  but  little 


COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 


203 


to  their  taste,  brave  warriors  as  they  were,  and  they  soon  with- 
drew, carrying  with  them  their  dead  and  W9unded.  The  settlers 
suffered  slightly,  one  man  being  killed  and  four  wounded. 

But  though  the  Indians  had  raised  the  siege  so  soon  at  this 
April  attack,  they  were  not  to  remain  away  long.  On  the  4th  of 
July,  their  number  being  doubled,  they  returned.  Detachments 
were  sent  to  alarm  and  annoy  the  neighboring  settlements,  and 
thus  prevent  reinforcements  being  sent  to  Boonesborough. '  For 
two  days  the  attack 
was  vigorous.  The 
twenty-two  men 
within  the  fort  saw 
with  anxious  hearts 
the  two  hundred  "red 
devils"  surrounding 
them.  "With  patient  fe  ^|i|i||r^f^ 
courage  they  await- 
ed the  result ;  drop- 
ped a  soldier's  tear 
over  the  one  man 
that  was  killed  dur- 
ing this  time;  tended 
their  two  wounded 
comrades;  told  each 
other  with  grim 
pleasure  that  an- 
other Indian  had 
fallen,  until  the  num- 
ber seven  had  been 
reached;  then,  sud- 
denly, with  great 
clamor,  the  Indians 
raised  the  siege,  and 
departed. 

The  neighboring  settlements,  Logan's  Fort  and  Harrodsburg, 
suffered  more  severely  than  Boonesborough;  but  considerable 
reinforcements  strengthened  the  several  garrisons,  forty-five  men 
reaching  Boonesborough  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  and  a  hun- 
dred more  about  a  month  later.  This  increased  strength  resulted 
in  greater  boldness  on  the  part  of  the  settlers,  so  that  for  about  six 
weeks  there  were  almost  daily  skirmishes  with  the  Indians. 


INDIANS  ATTACKING  BOONESKOROUGH. 


204  COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

Notwithstanding  this  warlike  state  of  affairs,  the  men  pursued 
their  work  of  tilling  the  land  as  usual ;  some,  of  course,  acting 
as  sentinels.  At  hunting,  a  still  more  dangerous  occupation,  but 
equally  necessary,  as  supplying  them  with  meat,  they  took  turns. 

The  procuring  a  subsistence  was  thus  at  all  times  a  dangerous 
work.  Such  was  the  case  in  January,  1778,  when  a  party  of 
thirty,  headed  by  Boone,  went  to  the  Blue  Licks  to  make  salt  for 
the  different  stations.  On  the  seventh  of  February,  while  out 
hunting  in  order  to  procure  meat  for  this  party,  he  fell  in  with  a 
party  of  a  hundred  and  two  Indian  warriors,  on  the  march  toward 
Boonesborough.  More  than  fifty  years  old,  he  could  not  outstrip 
the  fleet-footed  young  pursuers,  and  for  the  second  time  was 
captured.  "What  at  first  sight  appears  a  totally  unnecessary  step 
was  now  taken;  Boone  surrendered  his  entire  party,  numbering 
twenty -seven  men  ;  the  Indians  promising  safety  and  good  treat- 
ment. He  foresaw  the  result  from  the  first,  however ;  the  In- 
dians were  diverted  from  their  purpose  by  the  unexpected  good 
fortune,  and  returned  home  with  their  prisoners  and  booty.  For 
this  surrender  Boone  has  been  much  censured,  and  at  a  later 
period  was  court-martialed ;  but  was  honorably  acquitted,  the 
judges  deciding  that  his  course  had  undoubtedly  saved  Boones- 
borough from  attack. 

The  Shawnees  returned  to  their  principal  town,  Old  Chillicothe, 
on  the  Little  Miami ;  the  prisoners  sharing  the  few  comforts  and 
the  many  privations  of  their  captors,  during  a  three  days'  march 
in  wet,  cold  weather.  After  a  stay  of  nearly  a  month,  the  leader 
and  ten  of  his  men  were  taken  to  Detroit,  then  held  by  the  Brit- 
ish, who,  as  before  stated,  were  the  chief  agents  in  exciting  the 
Indians  against  the  Americans.  The  ten  subalterns  were  present- 
ed to  the  commandant,  who  was  very  anxious  to  get  possession 
of  Boone,  in  order  to  liberate  him  on  parole;  but  persuasions 
were  of  no  avail.  Even  a  ransom  of  a  hundred  pounds  did  not 
tempt  them ;  they  had  formed  a  particular  attachment,  and  were 
by  no  means  disposed  to  part  with  the  object  of  it.  This  affection, 
perhaps,  was  not  returned  by  the  man  whom  it  kept  from  home 
and  family,  but  resistance  would  only  infuriate  the  savages,  whose 
suspicions  he  must  allay  if  he  hoped  ever  to  escape  from  them. 

Go  back  to  Chillicothe  he  must,  and  the  fifteen  days'  march 
was  accomplished  with  submissive  cheerfulness. 

An  Indian  family  now  adopted  Boone,  with  the  usual  formal- 
ities, which,  to  quote  one  of  his  biographers,  "were  often  severe 


COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

and  ludicrous.  The  hair  of  the  head  is  plucked  out  by  a  painful 
and  tedious  operation,  leaving  a  tuft,  three  or  four  inches  in  di- 
ameter, on  the  crown,  for  the  scalp-lock,  which  is  cut  and  dressed 
up  with  ribbons  and  feathers/'  After  copious  ablutions  in  the 
river,  "to  wash  the  white  blood  out  of  him,"  he  listens  in  the 
council  house  to  a  speech  from  the  chief  who  expatiates  upon  the 


BOOKE'S  ESTDIAN-  TOILET. 

honors  conferred  on  him.  His  head  and  face  having  been  paint- 
ed  in  accordance  with  the  latest  and  most  popular  style,  a  grand 
feast  concluded  the  ceremony. 

The  prisoner  bent  every  endeavor  to  pleasing  his  captors  :  often 
accompanying  them  on  hunting  parties,  they  could  not  sufficient- 
ly admire  his  skill ;  this  was  less  admirable,  however,  than  in 
the  frequent  shooting  matches  ;  in  these,  they  could  not  conceal 
their  joy  when  they  excelled  him,  or  their  envy  when  his  success 


206  COLONEL  DANIEL  fiOONE. 

was  better  than  theirs.  Of  course  he  was  not  slow  to  learn  this, 
and  to  act  on  the  knowledge,  so  that  they  were  seldom  displeased 
at  their  adopted  son's  excellence  with  the  rifle.  His  physical 
comfort  was  carefully  attended  to,  but  his  mental  state  must  have 
been  far  from  enviable,  for  added  to  the  anxiety  about  his  wife 
and  children  was  the  fear  that  the  station  would  be  less  safe 
and  prosperous  than  if  it  had  his  personal  care.  So  closely  was 
he  watched,  however,  that  escape  seemed  impossible. 

Having  accompanied  a  party  to  the  Scioto  Licks  tonnake  salt, 
upon  his  return  he  found  a  war  party  of  four  hundred  and  fifty 
warriors  at  Chillicothe,  preparing  for  a  descent  upon  Boones- 
borough.  Everything  must  be  risked  now  that  he  might  escape. 
Rising  at  the  usual  hunting  hour  the  next  morning,  and  provid- 
ing himself  with  one  meal's  victuals,  he  started  out  upon  a  hunt- 
ing expedition  for  the  day.  So  completely  had  he  disarmed  sus- 
picion that  no  objection  was  raised,  or  even  thought  of.  Pro- 
ceeding in  the  usual  direction  until  far  out  of  sight,  he  suddenly 
turned  towards  Boonesborough,  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles  away. 
Thither  he  went  at  his  utmost  speed,  stopping  for  nothing  during 
the  five  days  required  for  the  journey.  The  little  food  taken 
from  the  Indian  camp  was  all  the  material  sustenance  he  had  until 
he  reached  the  fort. 

As  he  feared,  he  found  the  garrison  careless,  the  defenses  poor- 
ly kept  up.  By  precept  and  example  he  encouraged  his  men, 
and  things  were  soon  in  good  condition  to  receive  the  enemy. 
But  while  they  were  hourly  expecting  the  Indians,  one  of  Boone's 
companions  in  captivity,  having  gotten  away,  reached  the  fort 
with  the  intelligence  that  the  escape  of  the  pioneer  leader  had  so 
powerfully  affected  his  captors  that  they  had  postponed  their 
meditated  attack  for  three  weeks.  Indian  spies  filled  the  coun- 
try, and  the  whole  atmosphere  seemed  to  be  full  of  alarm.  The 
red  men  evidently  saw  that  unless  the  whites  were  utterly  exter- 
minated, they  themselves  were  doomed.  It  was  in  self-defense 
that  the  blow  was  to  be  struck,  and  to  make  it  of  any  use  it  must 
be  deadly. 

This  was  the  Indian  reasoning,  and  with  it  the  whites  were 
perfectly  familiar.  Every  mind  was  strung  to  the  highest  pitch 
for  the  approaching  contest,  *very  eye  and  ear  was  on  the  alert. 
Such  a  state  of  things  cannot  long  continue ;  the  tense  bow-string 
must  relax  5  after  a  little  while  the  settlers  were  less  vigilant. 
Observing  this,  and  wishing  to  prevent  its  spread,  Boone  organ- 


COLONEL  DANIEL   BOONE.  20T 

ized  a  party  of  nineteen  of  his  brave  companions,  intending  to 
attack  one  of  the  Indian  towns  on  the  Scioto.  Cautiously  ad- 
vancing to  within  four  or  five  miles  of  the  town  which  he  wished 
to  surprise,  he  met  its  thirty  warriors,  on  their  way  to  join  the 
main  Indian  force,  then  marching  toward  Boonesborough.  In  the 
"smart  fight"  which  followed,  the  whites  lost  no  men;  the  In- 
dians a  few,  retreating  very  soon,  and  leaving  their  horses  and 
baggage  to  the  victors.  Spies  despatched  to  their  town  returned 
with  the  information  that  it  was  evacuated.  The  storm  was  gath- 
ering thick  and  fast  about  the  settlements,  and  there  was  no  time 
to  be  lost.  Back  to  Boonesborough  the  little  party  went  with  all 
speed,  passing  the  forces  of  the  enemy  the  sixth  day,  and  arriv- 
ing there  the  seventh  day  after  the  skirmish  above  described. 
On  the  succeeding  day  the  enemy  appeared  in  even  more  terri- 
ble guise  than  they  had  anticipated.  Nearly  five  hundred  war- 
riors, horrid  in  war  paint,  and  decked  with  the  ghastly  trophies 
of  their  past  victories,  advanced  towards  the  fort,  like  vultures 
approaching  the  doomed  and  innocent  flock.  But  the  wild  war- 
riors of  the  woods  had  before  this  besieged  Boonesborough  in 
equal  multitude,  and  had  retreated  from  their  undertaking  be- 
fore the  sharp  crack  of  those  unerring  rifles.  Yonder  painted 
host,  moving  through  the  forest  shadows  as  if  in  some  demoniac 
dance,  led  by  tbe  most  distinguished  chiefs  of  their  own  race,  was 
most  formidable  because  of  the  Canadian  Frenchmen  by  whom  it 
was  commanded.  It  was  the  voice  of  Captain  Duquesne  that  sum- 
moned the  garrison  to  "  surrender  in  the  name  of  his  Britannic 
Majesty,"  and  to  him  and  eleven  of  his  countrymen  must  the 
answer  be  made. 

"Within  the  fort,  a  council  of  all  the  fighting  men  was  hastily 
summoned — fifty  in  all !  More  than  one  knew  what  were  the  hor- 
rors of  captivity  among  the  savages — hard  work  and  ill  usage, 
entire  subj  ection  to  the  whims  of  a  hundred  masters.  Such  would 
be  the  result  of  surrender.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were  nearly 
ten  besiegers  to  every  one  of  their  own  number,  and  if  the  fort 
were  taken  by  storm,  death  by  the  most  fearful  tortures  would 
be  certain  to  follow.  This  was  the  alternative.  With  grave  faces 
and  anxious  hearts  they  weighed  the  question,  and  every  man 
returned  the  answer  that  they  "would  defend  the  fort  as  long  as 
a  man  of  them  lived." 

Although  they  thus  decided,  they  did  not  yet  make  known 
their  resolution.  A  delay  of  two  days  was  granted  them  for  con- 


208  COLONEL  DANIEL   BOONE. 

sideration,  but  was  "used  for  preparation.  Horses  and  cattle  were 
collected  in  the  fort  from  the  surrounding  fields,  and  everything 
made  ready  for  a  determined  resistance.  On  the  evening  of  the 
ninth  of  August  (1778)  Boone  announced  to  Captain  Duquesne 
the  determination  to  defend  the  fort.  "  Now/'  he  said,  "  we 
laugh  at  your  formidable  preparations  ;  but  thank  you  for  giv- 
ing us  notice  and  time  to  prepare  for  our  defense.  Your  efforts 
will  not  prevail ;  for  our  gates  shall  forever  deny  you  admit- 
tance." Such  a  reply  was  wholly  unexpected,  and  considerably 
disappointed  the  enemy.  Their  leader,  however,  quickly  recov- 
ered himself,  and  offering  new  terms,  requested  that  nine  of  the 
principal  men  should  leave  the  fort,  to  treat  with  them.  Al- 
though they  could  talk  perfectly  well  in  their  positions  at  that 
time,  the  wary  pioneers  allowed  themselves  to  trust  an  enemy 
whose  wiliness  they  knew.  Boone  and  eight  of  his  companions 
left  the  fort  to  treat  with  the  foe,  and  so  earnest  were  the  asser- 
tions of  Duquesne,  that  they  had  orders  to  take  the  Kentuckians 
prisoners,  and  not  to  kill  them,  that  the  settlers  almost  believed 
them.  A  treaty  was  made,  and  signed  ;  what  were  the  contents 
cannot  now  be  ascertained,  nor  need  it  cause  us  any  regret ;  no 
wisdom  has  been  lost  to  us.  Determined  as  the  Indians  were  to 
drive  the  whites  from  their  favorite  hunting  grounds,  they  would 
not  propose,  in  earnest,  anything  to  which  the  settlers  would 
agree.  But  promises  are  easily  made  by  those  who  have  no  in- 
tention of  keeping  them,  and  who  cannot  be  compelled  to  do  so. 

"It  is  a  singular  custom  among  the  Indians,  of  whom  I  am  the 
leader,"  said  Captain  Duquesne,  when  the  articles  had  been  signed, 
"  for  each  white  man  with  whom  they  have  made  a  treaty  to  give 
each  hand  to  be  clasped  by  an  Indian,  in  token  of  good  faith." 

It  was  a  singular  custom,  Boone  thought,  and  one  of  which  he 
had  never  heard,  experienced  frontiersman  though  he  was.  But 
any  refusal  to  comply  with  the  demands  of  the  enemy  would  on- 
ly enrage  them.  The  white  men  extended  their  hands;  the  In- 
dians selected  for  the  occasion  advanced,  each  constraining  his 
features  to  express  a  smile  (but  vrhich  was  by  no  means  enchant- 
ing) and  uttering  the  word  "  Brother !"  in  his  softest  tones. 
Trained  as  he  was  to  conceal  his  feelings  under  an  appearance  of 
apathy,  it  was  beyond  his  skill  to  hide  the  snake-like  glitter  of  the 
eye,  which  betrayed  his  intentions  to  his  destined  victim.  They 
grappled  with  the  settlers,  but  were  thrown  off  by  the  strength 
of  despair,  as  the  white  men  wrenched  themselves  free.  Back 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE.  209 

to  the  fort  they  fled,  amid  a  shower  of  bullets  and  arrows,  and 
tomahawks  wielded  by  angry  hands. 

The  conference  had  taken  place  at  a  distance  of  only  sixty 
yards  from  the  fort ;  had  it  been  greater  they  would  have  suffer- 
ed more  in  their  flight;  as  it  was,  but  one  man  was  wounded.  The 
firing  continued  after  the  party  had  reached  the  fort,  but  was  re- 
turned by  the  besieged  with  such  fatal  effect  that  the  assailants 
were  soon  obliged  to  fall  back  from  their  exposed  position,  and 
taking  advantage  of  all  the  shelter  afforded,  to  continue  the  at- 
tack with  more  caution. 

Despairing  of  success  in  a  siege  where  all  the  loss  seemed  to  be 
on  his  own  side,  Duquesne  now  determined  upon  an  expedient 
which  he  hoped  would  be  more  successful.  The  fort  was  situated 
sixty  yards  from  the  Kentucky  Eiver,  and  beginning  at  the  water 
mark,  he  directed  the  course  of  a  mine  toward  the  fort,  in  order 
to  blow  up  the  garrison.  The  fact  that  the  usually  clear  river 
was  muddy  below  a  certain  point  awakened  suspicion  in  the 
fort.  Boone  immediately  divined  the  true  state  of  affairs,  per- 
ceiving that  they  must  have  thrown  the  earth  into  the  river  in 
order  to  prevent  its  being  seen  by  him.  The  point  of  division 
between  the  clear  and  the  turbid  water  indicated  the  direction  of 
the  mine,  and  he  gave  orders  to  dig  a  deep  trench  inside  of  the 
fort,  in  such  a  way  as  to  cross  the  enemy's  mine.  The  clay  dug 
from  this  trench  was  thrown  over  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and  Du- 
quesne,  reading  without  difficulty  a  message  so  plainly  expressed, 
desisted  from  the  undertaking. 

Having  thus  learned  from  experience  the  watchfulness  of  the 
men  with  whom  he  had  to  cope,  he  determined  to  renew  the  at- 
tack in  the  manner  of  a  regular  Indian  siege,  trusting  that  the 
numbers  of  the  garrison  would  soon  be  so  diminished  that  they 
would  be  forced  to  surrender.  In  this,  however,  he  was  disap- 
pointed. Man  after  man  of  his  own  force  fell ;  his  provisions 
were  nearly  exhausted,  and  after  nine  days'  trial  of  power  and 
policy,  he  raised  the  siege,  and  led  off  his  savage  host.  Thirty- 
seven  of  the  Indians  had  been  killed,  and  many  wounded ;  these 
being,  according  to  the  usage  of  all  the  tribes,  immediately  taken 
from  the  scene  of  action.  Boone  lost  two  men,  four  others  being 
wounded. 

Boonesborough  was  never  again  disturbed  by  any  large  body 
of  Indians.  This  was  in  consequence  of  the  establishment  of 
many  new  stations  between  it  and  the  Ohio  Eiver.  Not  only 


210  CJOLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

could  the  Indians  not  reach  this  station  without  leaving  enemies 
in  the  rear,  but  the  others  being  weaker  were  more  tempting  prey. 

Early  in  the  autumn,  Boone  left  the  garrison  in  care  of  the  fort, 
judging  that  no  emergency  would  arise  in  which  his  leadership 
and  counsel  would  be  required ;  and  set  off  to  ISTorth  Carolina 
for  his  family.  His  wife  supposed  that  he  had  been  killed  at  the 
time  when  he  was  captured  by  the  Shawnees,  and  had  returned  to 
her  old  home.  Early  in  the  following  summer  they  again  reached 
Boonesborough,  and  Boone  industriously  cultivated  his  farm, 
volunteering  his  assistance  whenever  occasion  required  to  the 
neighboring  immigrants. 

In  October,  1780,  it  once  more  became  necessary  to  obtain  a  sup- 
ply of  salt,  and  for  this  purpose  Boone  started  in  company  with 
his  brother  Squire,  to  Blue  Licks.  The  spot  seemed  to  be  fatal 
to  the  pioneer;  here,  less  than  two  years  before,  he  had  been 
taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians,  remaining  in  captivity  for  several 
months ;  here  again  he  was  destined  to  meet  with  loss,  for  on  this 
occasion,  after  a  hot  chase  "by  the  Indians,  he  had  the  unhappiness 
of  seeing  his  brother,  the  sharer  of  his  boyish  sports  as  well  as 
the  dangers  and  hardships  encountered  in  manhood,  shot  and 
scalped  by  the  savages.  Nor  could  the  poor  satisfaction  of  re- 
venge be  his.  One  against  many,  he  must  fly  for  his  life.  Track- 
ed by  a  dog,  his  hiding  place  was  constantly  betrayed  by  its  bark- 
ing, until,  after  a  long  flight,  he  turned  and  shot  the  dog.  He  con- 
cealed himself  behind  a  tree,  but  held  his  hat  out  on  a  stick  •  when 
his  pursuers  had  thus  wasted  their  shots,  he  aimed  at  them,  and 
succeeded  in  killing  both. 

Another  misfortune  had  overtaken  Boone  a  short  time  before. 
In  1779,  a  commission  had  been  appointed  by  the  Yirginia  Legis- 
lature to  settle  Kentucky  land  claims,  there  being  considerable 
trouble  about  the  conflicting  interests  of  different  settlers.  The 
Henderson  or  ""  Transylvania  Company,"  as  it  was  called,  under 
the  auspices  of  which  Boonesborough  had  been  .settled,  claimed 
entire  independence  of  Yirginia  and  every  other  state.  Kentucky, 
however,  had  been  constituted  a  county  of  the  Old  Dominion, 
and  various  tracts  of  lands  had  been  entered  by  later  settlers 
under  the  laws  of  that  -commonwealth.  Other  states  had  sent 
pioneers  to  this  region,  and  matters  seemed  to  be  in  inextricable 
confusion.  Major  Boone,  in  company  with  many  others,  turned 
all  his  available  property  into  ready  money,  intending  to  invest 
in  land  warrants.  Having  raised  about  $20,000  in  paper  money, 


212  COLONEL  DANIEL   BOONS. 

and  being  entrusted  with  large  sums  by  his  neighbors,  he  set  out 
on  his  journey  to  Richmond.  On  the  way  he  was  attacked  and 
robbed  of  the  whole  amount.  One  of  the  victims  of  this  misfor- 
tune writes  thus  to  his  brother,  who  had  also  suffered  by  the 
robbery : 

"  I  feel  for  the  poor  people  who,  perhaps,  are  to  lose  even  their 
pre-emptions ;  but  I  must  say,  I  feel  more  for  Boone,  whose  char- 
acter, I  am  told,  suffers  by  it.  Much  degenerated  must  the  people 
of  this  age  be,  when  amongst  them  are  to  be  found  men  to  cen- 
sure and  blast  the  reputation  of  a  person  so  just  and  upright,  and 
in  whcrse  breast  is  a  seat  of  virtue  too  pure  to  admit  of  a  thought 
so  base  and  dishonorable." 

Yet,  in  his  autobiography,  there  is  no  word  of  this.  The  lands 
he  had  wrested  from  the  savages  were  taken  from  him  by  legal 
quibbles  ;  having  money  to  buy  the  title  to  them,  he  was  robbed 
of  it ;  undertaking  to  perform  a  service  for  his  neighbors,  their 
money  was  taken  along  with  his  own  5  and  at  last  he  was  ac- 
cused of  appropriating  it  to  his  own  use  ;  yet  he  complained  not, 
and  we  know  how  hard  it  is  to  bear  such  suspicions. 

Although  Boonesborough  was  not  again  attacked,  Kentucky 
was  by  no  means  in  a  state  of  tranquility.  Pioneers  and  Indians 
both  recognized  the  fact  that  Kentucky  was  not  large  enough  for 
both  races,  and  each  fought,  not  for  supremacy,but  for  existence. 
The  year  1779  is  distinguished  in  the  annals  of  the  state  as  hav- 
ing seen  one  of  the  bloodiest  battles  ever  fought  between  the 
two  contending  races  within  her  borders.  With  the  single  ex- 
ception of  the  subsequent  fight  at  Blue  Licks,  no  more  san- 
guinary conflict  ever  stained  the  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground,  from 
the  time  that  the  white  man  first  trod  her  fertile  soil  until  the 
days  of  Albert  Sydney  Johnston.  Although  Boone  was  not  in 
this  battle,  so  important  was  its  bearing  upon  the  history  of  the 
state  that  it  must  be  briefly  described. 

Colonel  Rogers,  returning  from  ~New  Orleans  with  supplies  for 
the  stations  on  the  Upper  Mississippi  and  Ohio  Rivers,  ascended 
these  streams  until  he  reached  Cincinnati.  ("  Upper  Mississippi" 
then  meant  that  part  of  the  river  .between  New  Orleans  and  the 
little  French  trading  post  called  St.  Louis.)  Coming  by  chance 
upon  a  party  of  Indians  crossing  to  the  Kentucky  side  of  the 
river,  he  determined  to  surprise  them  as  they  landed.  Owing  to 
low  water,  a  large  sand-bar  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  was  laid 
bare,  and  here  Rogers'  men  disembarked.  Before  they  could 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE.  213 

reach  the  spot  where  he  proposed  to  attack  the  enemy,  they  were 
set  upon  by  a  force  so  far  superior  to  their  own  that  from  the  first 
they  fought  without  hope.  Rogers  was  instantly  killed,  as  were 
many  of  his  men.  The  miserable  remnant  fled  to  the  boats,  only 
to  find  that  of  the  two,  one  was  in  the  possession  of  the  Indians. 
Losing  all  sense  of  everything  but  their  own  danger,  the  few  men 
in  the  other  pushed  off  from  shore  without  waiting  for  their  com- 
rades. Turning  upon  their  pursuers,  and  charging  furiously,  a 
small  number  broke  through  their  ranks  and  made  the  best  of 
their  way  to  Harrodsburg.  Sixty  men  fell  by  the  hands  of  the 
Indians. 

Of  less  importance  was  an  expedition  headed  by  Col.  Bowman, 
and  starting  from  Harrodsburg,  against  the  Shawnee  town  of 
Chillicothe.  Beginning  with  every  conceivable  promise  of  suc- 
cess, a  most  remarkable  lack  of  action  on  the  part  of  the  comman- 
der nullified  all  the  advantages.  This  was  in  July,  1779.  In  June, 
1780,  Riddle's  and  Martin's  Stations,  situated  at  the  forks  of  Lick- 
ing River,  were  attacked  by  a  large  party  of  Indians  and  Cana- 
dians, headed  by  Col.  Bird.  All  the  inhabitants  were  made  cap- 
tives, an,d  treated  most  cruelly;  those  unable  to  endure  were 
tomahawked. 

The  succeeding  winter  was  one  of  the  severest  ever  known  in 
Kentucky.  In  addition  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  (which 
was  not  unbearable,  since  it  kept  the  Indians  close  in  their  wig- 
wams), most  of  the  corn  had  been  destroyed  by  the  savages  dur- 
ing the  summer,  and  the  settlers  we're  obliged  to  live  chiefly  on 
buifalo  flesh.  "  A  hardy  race,  accustomed  to  difficulties  and  ne- 
cessities, they  were  wonderfully  supported  through  all  their  suf- 
ferings." 

Throughout  the  summer  hostilities  were  continued.  Two  boys 
were  carried  off  from  one  station,  and  in  many  places  horses 
were  stolen  and  men  killed,  whenever  such  an  opportunity  pre- 
sented itself.  Nor  was  it  savage  ferocity  only  which  was  to  be 
encountered  ;  they  were  led  by  some  renegade  white  men,  among 
whom  the  notorious  Simon  G-irty  was  the  most  conspicuous.  A 
league  was  formed,  the  parties  to  it  being  the  Shawnees,  Chero- 
kees,  Wyandots,  Tawas,  Delawares  and  some  other  less  important 
tribes.  The  warriors  of  these  nations,  numbering  nearly  six  hun- 
dred, appeared  before  Bryant's  station  on  the  night  of  the  14t 
of  August,  1782.  Had  they  arrived  a  few  hours  later,  they  would 
have  found  the  fort  wholly  unprepared  for  any  sort  of  defense, 


214  COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

for  the  entire  garrison  was  about  to  march  to  the  relief  of  Hoy's 
station.  Preparations  for  departure,  however,  did  not  differ  ma- 
terially from  preparations  for  defence,  and  the  Indians  were 
somewhat  dismayed  by  the  activity  of  the  garrison,  attributed 
by  them  to  a  different  cause. 

The  spring  which  supplied  the  fort  with  water  was  at  some  dis- 
tance from  it,  as  was  not  uncommonly  the  case ;  the  settlers  seem- 
ed to  feel  perfectly  secure  until  actually  attacked.  Taking  ad- 
vantage of  what  would  be  the  necessity  of  the  garrison,  the  main 
body  of  Indians  placed  themselves  in  ambush  near  the  spring, 
while  a  detachment  of  a  hundred  warriors  was  sent  to  the  other 
side  of  the  fort.  This  smaller  party  was  intended  as  a  decoy,  to 
draw  the  garrison  out,  when  the  larger  body,  rushing  upon  the 
opposite  gate  and  hewing  it  down  with  their  tomahawks,  would 
gain  possession  of  the  stronghold. 

At  dawn,  the  garrison  assembled  under  arms,  and  were  about 
to  open  the  gates  and  march  out,  when  they  were  startled  by  a 
furious  volley  of  fire-arms,  echoed,  in  a  lower  key,  by  the  wild 
yells  of  the  savages.  From  the  picketing  could  be  seen  a  small 
party  of  Indians,  making  the  most  furious  gestures.  The  more 
experienced  and  wary  of  the  settlers  detected  the  trick,  and  re- 
strained the  ardent  courage  of  those  who  would  have  sallied  forth 
to  the  attack.  They  saw  that  there  was  to  be  a  determined  siege, 
and  they  were  without  water.  There  was  but  one  thing  to  be 
done :  the  women  must  go  to  the  spring,  as  usual,  and  bring  a 
supply  into  the  fort. 

"  Why  must  we  go  ?"  was  the  question.  "  Why  cannot  armed 
men  take  the  risk,  since  they,  at  least,  can  defend  themselves  ? 
We  are  not  bullet  proof,  and  the  Indians  take  scalps  from  women 
as  well  as  from  men." 

"  You  bring  the  water  every  day,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  by 
doing  so  now  you  will  avert  suspicion.  If  you  do  as  usual,  they 
will  not  think  their  ambuscade  is  discovered,  and  wishing  to  re- 
main concealed  for  a  longer  time,  they  will  not  fire  upon  you. 
If  we  go,  they  will  know  that  we  suspect  them,  and  will  either 
shoot  us  down  at  the  spring,  or  follow  us  into  the  fort." 

There  was  a  momentary  hesitation;  then  some  of  the  braver 
women  declared  their  readiness  to  go,  and  the  less  courageous 
followed  their  example.  Betraying  no  sign  of  fear,  they  set  out, 
marching  in  a  body  to  the  spring.  Their  behavior  completely 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


215 


blinded  the  Indians,  five  hundred  of  whom  lay  within  pistol-shot, 


and  some  even  nearer. 


216  COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

As  they  returned,  they  began  to  give  way  to  fear,  and — let  me 
not  say  they  ran ;  perhaps  they  feared  the  garrison  were  thirsty. 

Thirteen  young  men  were  now  despatched  to  attack  the  decoy 
party,  with  orders  to  make  the  fight  appear  of  as  great  extent  as 
possible,  by  firing  as  fast  as  they  could  load  and  reload,  and 
making  a  great  deal  of  noise.  Then  the  rest  of  the  garrison  silently 
placed  themselves  at  the  other  side  of  the  fort,  ready  to  receive 
the  expected  attack. 

The  Indians  concealed  west  of  the  fort  heard  the  firing,  and 
thought  that  their  stratagem  had  proved  successful.  The  pre- 
concerted signal  was  given,  and  the  five  hundred  rushed  upon 
the  fort  that  they  thought  defenseless.  The  first  dreadful  volley 
awakened  them  rudely  from  their  dream  of  success ;  followed  as 
it  was  by  a  second  and  a  third  in  close  succession,  it  was  not  long 
before  they  were  sufficiently  recalled  to  their  senses  to  fly  to  the 
woods.  Hardly  had  they  disappeared  when  the  party  sent  out  to 
attack  the  decoy  came  in,  highly  delighted  at  the  repulse  of  the 
enemy. 

Having  recovered  from  the  surprise  of  their  warm  reception, 
the  Indians  issued  from  the  woods  and  attacked  the  station  in 
the  regular  manner,  the  fight  lasting  four  or  five  hours.  About 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  reinforcements  were  received  from 
Lexington,  couriers  having  been  sent  thither  as  soon  as  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Indians  had  been  discovered.  Those  who  were 
mounted  succeeded  in  getting  into  the  fort  without  being  hurt, 
but  those  on  foot  were  cut  off  by  the  Indians,  a  running  fight  be- 
ing kept  up  for  over  an  hour.  G-irty  determined,  however,  to 
try  to  pursuade,  since  he  could  not  force  them  to  surrender;  as- 
suring them  that  his  present  force  of  six  hundred  warriors  was 
not  all  that  he  could  bring  to  bear  upon  them ;  that  reinforce- 
ments would  soon  arrive  with  several  pieces  of  artillery,  when 
they  could  not  hope  to  resist ;  that  if  they  would  surrender,  not 
a  hair  of  their  heads  should  be  injured.  In  spite  of  the  threats  of 
the  artillery,  however  (which  really  was  alarming,  as  the  Indians 
had  destroyed  two  stations  with  cannon),  the  garrison  held  out, 
and  in  the  morning  the  Indians  had  disappeared. 

All  the  morning  reinforcements  arrived,  until  by  midday  one 
hundred  and  seventy-six  men  were  assembled  at  Bryant's  station. 
About  fifty  or  sixty  of  these  men  were  commissioned  officers,  who 
resigned  the  privileges  of  their  position  to  fight  in  the  ranks  for 
the  common  weal.  Colonels  Trigg  and  Todd,  and  Majors  Boone 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


217 


and  Harland,  were  the  leaders.     Subordinate  to  these  were  Mai 
ors  McBride,  McGary,  Levi  Todd,  and  Captains  Bulger  and  Gor- 
don. 

General  Logan  was  expected  to  join  them,  in  twenty-four  hours 


ARRIVAL  OF   REINFORCEMENTS. 


at  the  farthest,  with  a  large  force.  Although  the  number  of  men 
collected  in  the  fort  was  unusually  large,  it  was  but  a  fraction  of 
the  opposing  army.  The  Indians  themselves  were  perfectly 
aware  of  this,  and  took  no  trouble  to  conceal  their  route;  adver- 
tising it,  rather,  by  the  breadth  of  their  trail  and  by  marking 


218  COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

the  trees.  This  self-confidence  of  the  savages  somewhat  alarmed 
Boone,  whose  courage  never  degenerated  into  a  fool-hardy  con- 
tempt for  danger ;  but  a  retreat  would  now  be  construed  by  the 
Indians  as  evidence  of  weakness. 

Encamping  that  night  in  the  woods,  on  the  succeeding  day  they 
reached  the  Lower  Blue  Licks,  and  for  the  first  time  came  within 
view  of  the  Indians.  To  Boone,  the  very  sight  of  the  place  where 
he  had  suffered  so  much  before,  must  have  seemed  a  foreboding 
of  evil. 

The  white  men  halted,  a  hurried  consultation  being  held  by  a 
dozen  or  twenty  officers.  All  eyes  were  turned  on  Boone,  the 
veteran  woodsman  whose  soldierly  qualities  they  respected  no 
less  than  they  did  his  courage  and  integrity  of  heart.  Cautious 
were  his  words;  the  leisurely  retreat  of  the  Indians  showed 
them  to  have  a  large  force  ready  for  battle.  %  About  a  mile  from 
where  they  now  were,  there  were  two  ravines,  one  on  each  side 
of  the  ridge,  and  here  he  feared  they  might  form  an  ambuscade. 
The  place  was  excellently  fitted  for  that  purpose,  as  by  making 
use  of  both  ravines  the  Indians  could  attack  them  at  once  in  front 
and  flank  before  they  could  anticipate  such  a  danger.  There 
were  two  courses  to  be  pursued :  either  to  await  the  arrival  of 
Logan,  who  would  soon  join  them;  or  to  divide  their  force,  one 
half  to  march  up  the  river  and  cross  at  the  rapids,  falling  upon 
the  rear  of  the  enemy,  while  the  remaining  half  crossed  at  that 
point,  attacking  the  enemy  in  front. 

Opinions  were  divided  as  to  the  better  course.  If  they  re- 
mained where  they  were,  they  might  be  surprised  under  cover 
of  darkness,  and  massacred  ;  if  the  force  was  divided,  they  might 
be  beaten  in  detail.  The  discussion  was  suddenly  cut  short  by 
the  passionately  rash  courage  of  McGrary,  who,  with  a  war  cry 
like  an  Indian's,  spurred  his  horse  into  the  stream,  shouting, 
"  Le,t  all  who  are  not  cowards  follow  me  !" 

His  ardor  communicated  itself  to  the  others ;  no  order  was  pos- 
sible. In  the  stream  together  were  officers  and  men,  mounted 
and  unmounted.  He  was  leader  who  was  foremost  in  the  wild, 
irregular  mass,  and  toward  this  post  of  honor  every  man  strug- 
gled. As  they  ascended  the  ridge  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
stream,  McGrary,  Boone,  Harland  and  McBride  were  in  the  van. 
On  they  went  with  the  same  wild  courage.  IsTo  scouts  were  sent 
in  advance,  not  even  ordinary  precautions  were  taken  ;  the  only 
aim  seemed  to  be  to  reach  the  field  of  blood  as  quickly  as  possible. 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE.  219 

Boone' s  fears  were  realized.  Hardly  had  they  reached  the  spot 
described,  when  the  Indians,  concealed  in  one  of  the  bushy  ra- 
vines, fired  upon  the  van.  The  centre  and  rear  hurried  to  the 
assistance  of  their  companions,  but  were  stopped  by  a  terrible 
fire  from  the  ravine  on  the  other  side.  Unprotected,  on  the  bare 
and  open  ridge,  the  whites  still  stood  their  ground  before  the 
devastating  volleys  from  the  enemy  sheltered  by  the  nature  of 
of  its  position.  Gradually  the  combatants  closed  with  each 
other,  the  Indians  emerging  from  the  ravine.  This  enabled  the 
whites  to  return  their  fire  with  greater  effect  than  before.  Many 
of  the  whites  had  already  been  killed,  among  them  Todd,  Trigg, 
McBride,  Harland  and  young  Boone,  while  the  Indians  were 
gradually  extending  their  line,  so  as  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the 
Kentuckians.  Perceiving  this,  the  rear  endeavored  to  break 
through,  and  this  movement  being  communicated  to  the  whole 
body,  a  general  retreat  ended  in  the  wildest  disorder.  The  clear 
mountain  stream  ran  blood,  and  the  grass  on  its  banks,  trampled 
and  uprooted  in  the  deadly  struggle,  was  stained  with  the  same 
horrid  dye.  Those  who  were  mounted  escaped,  but  those  who 
must  trust  to  their  own  swiftness  perished. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  retreat,  when  the  dreadful  carn- 
age was  at  its  height,  Boone,  who  had  seen  his  son  and  so  many 
of  his  friends  slain,  found  himself  with  a  few  companions,  almost 
totally  surrounded.  But  the  attention  of  the  Indians  was  chiefly 
drawn  to  the  ford  where  most  of  the  fugitives  were  endeavoring 
to  cross.  His  acquaintance  with  the  locality  here  served  him  in 
good  stead.  Dashing  into  the  ravine  in  which  the  Indians  had 
lain,  they  crossed  the  river  below  the  ford,  after  having  sustained 
more  than  one  heavy  fire,  and  baffling  several  small  parties  that 
pursued  them. 

Having  crossed,  they  entered  the  woods  at  a  point  where  there 
was  no  pursuit,  and  made  their  way  back  to  Bryant's  Station. 

Horse  and  foot  thronged  the  river,  struggling  at  once  with  the 
current  and  with  the  Indians,  who  were  mingled  with  them  in  a 
confused  mass.  Nor  was  it  altogether  a  strife  for  self-preserva- 
tion; the  blood-stained  record  of  the  day  is  bright  with  stories 
of  generosity. 

In  the  wild  panic,  some  dozen  or  twenty  horsemen,  having 
gained  the  farther  side  of  the  river,  spurred  their  horses  onward, 
though  many  were  still  struggling  in  the  stream.  One  of  their 
number,  ISTetherland,  who  had  been  strongly  suspected  of  coward- 


220  COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

ice,  observing  this,  reined  in  his  horse,  and  called  upon  them  to 
fire  on  the  enemy,  thus  affording  relief  to  those  less  fortunate  than 
themselves.  This  was  only  temporary,  however,  for  the  num- 
ber of  the  Indians  was  so  great  that  the  places  of  those  killed 
were  quickly  supplied. 

From  the  battle-ground  to  the  ford  was  one  dreadful  scene  of 
carnage,  and  for  nearly  twenty  miles  the  pursuit  was  kept  up. 
Beyond  the  ford,  there  was  but  slight  loss  to  the  whites.  Among 
the  prisoners  was  a  young  man  named  [Reynolds,  whose  captivity 
was  the  direct  result  of  his  own  generosity.  Between  the  battle 
ground  and  the  riverr  in  the  course  of  the  retreat,  he  came  up 
with  an  older  man  who  was  much  exhausted  with  the  rapidity  of 
the  flight,  being  infirm  by  reason  of  wounds  received  in  former 
battles.  Dismounting,  Reynolds  helped  this  officer  upon  his 
horse,  and  continued  his  way  on  foot.  Swimming  the  river,  his 
buckskin  breeches  became  heavy  with  the  water,  and  he  was  soon 
overtaken  by  a  party  of  Indians,  and  compelled  to  accompany 
his  captors.  A  prisoner's  fate  is  never  decided  by  the  Indians 
until  the  close  of  the  campaign,  when  they  return  to  their  village. 
Young  Reynolds,  then,  was  kindly  treated  by  his  captors,  of 
whom  there  was  a  considerable  party.  A  small  group  of  Ken- 
tuckians  seeming  to  them  to  be  easy  prey,  he  was  left  in  charge 
of  three  of  their  number.  These,  eager  to  join  their  companions, 
delegated  the  care  of  the  prisoner  to  a  single  Indian,  and  guard 
and  captive  jogged  along  quietly  enough,  the  latter  being  unarm- 
ed. The  Indian,  at  last,  stooped  to  tie  his  moccasin,  when  Rey- 
nolds knocked  him  down  with  his  fist  and  disappeared  in  the 
thicket.  A  gift  of  two  hundred  acres  of  first  class  land  was  the 
acknowledgment  which  ho  afterward  received  from  the  man 
whose  life  he  had  saved. 

Before  reaching  Bryant's  station,  the  fugitives  met  Logan,  at 
the  head  of  his  detachment.  When  all  who  had  escaped  arrived  at 
that  place,  Logan  found  himself  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  and 
fifty  men.  With  Boone  as  second  in  command,  he  set  out  toward 
the  battle  field,  hoping  that  the  enemy,  encouraged  by  success, 
would  encamp  there.  But  while  defeat  only  enraged  the  red  men 
further,  victory  sent  them  home  to  their  own  country,  exulting 
in  their  scalps  and  prisoners.  The  battle  field  was  covered 
with  the  bodies  o£  the  white  men,  frightfully  mangled.  After 
burying  these,  Logan  and  Boone  returned  to  Bryant's  station 
and  disbanded  the  troops. 


COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 


221 


Such  was  the  bloodiest  battle  ever  fought  between  white  and 
red,  for  the  soil  of  Kentucky.  About  seventy  of  the  Kentuckians, 
or  nearly  one-half  of  the  whole  number  engaged,  were  killed', 
and  the  19th  of  August,  1782,  was  long  celebrated  in  the  local 
traditions. 

A  few  prowling  bands  of  Indians  infested  the  less  thickly  set- 
tled part  of  the  country,  but  for  some  time  there  were  no  im- 
portant sieges  or  fights.  Colonel  Boone  was  enabled  by  the  com- 
pensation which  the  State  of  Virginia  gave  him  for  his  military 


THE  TOBACCO   STRATAGEM. 


services  to  purchase  several  tracts  of  land,  which  he  cultivaU-1 
with  his  usual  industry,  varying  his  agricultural  pursuits  with 
hunting  expeditions.  On  one  of  these  tracts  he  erected  a  com- 
fortable log  house,  near  which  he  planted  a  small  patch  of  tobac- 
co to  supply  his  neighbors  (  for  he  never  used  the  "  filthy  weed  " 
himself). 

He  had  built  a  "  tobacco  house,"  for  curing  it,  of  rails  ten  or 
twelve  feet  in  height,  and  roofed  with  cane  and  grass.  The  stalks 
were  split  and  strung  on  sticks  about  four  feet  long,  the  ends  of 
these  being  laid  on  poles  placed  in  tiers  across  .the  building. 


222  COLONEL  DANIEL  BOONE. 

The  lower  tier  being  dry,  Boone  was  busily  removing  it  to  the 
upper  part  of  the  building,  supporting  himself  on  the  lower 
poles,  when,  looking  down,  he  saw  that  four  Indians,  armed  with 
guns,  had  entered  the  low  door.  One  of  them  said  to  him : 

"Now,  Boone,  we  got  you.  You  no  get  away  more.  We  carry 
off  to  Chillicothe  this  time.  You  no  cheat  us  any  more." 

Looking  down  from  his  perch,  Boone  recognized  the  intruders 
as  some  of  the  Shawnees  who  had  captured  him  in  1778,  and  an- 
swered, pleasantly : 

"  Ah,  old  friends,  glad  to  see  you.  "Wait  a  little,  till  I  have 
finished  putting  up  this  tobacco,  will  you  ?  You  can  stand  there 
and  watch  me." 

The  loaded  guns,  which  had  been  pointed  at  his  breast,  were 
lowered,  and  the  Indians  stood  watching  his  every  movement. 
At  last,  so  interested  did  they  become  in  answering  his  questions 
about  old  acquaintances,  and  in  his  promises  to  give  them  his  to- 
bacco, that  they  became  less  attentive,  and  did  not  see  that  he 
had  gathered  the  dry  tobacco  into  such  a  position  that  a  touch 
would  send  it  into  their  upturned  faces.  At  the  same  instant  that 
he  touched  this,  he  jumped  upon  them  with  as  much  of  the  dried 
tobacco  as  he  could  gather  in  his  arms,  filling  their  eyes  and  nos- 
trils with  its  dust.  Blinded  and  strangling,  they  could  not  follow 
him  as  he  rushed  towards  the  cabin,  where  he  could  defend  him- 
self. Looking  around,  when  he  was  about  fifteen  or  twenty  yards 
from  the  tobacco  house,  he  saw  them  groping  in  all  directions  ; 
and  heard  them  cursing  him  as  a  rogue,  and  themselves  as  fools. 

Quietly  tilling  his  beautiful  farm  near  Boonesborough,  several 
years  were  passed  in  peace  and  tranquility.  Here  he  dictated  to 
one  John  Filson  the  autobiography  before  mentioned,  and  after 
its  publication  in  1784,  it  was  one  of  his  greatest  pleasures  to  lis- 
ten to  it  when  any  one  would  read  it  to  him.  In  his  opinion,  it 
was  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  literature  in  existence.  One 
charm,  at  least,  that  it  had  for  him,  it  has  for  all ;  it  is  "  every 
word  true — not  a  lie  in  it." 

But  the  storms  were  not  yet  at  an  end ;  the  earliest  settler  in 
the  community,  he  had  been  obliged  to  buy  his  farm ;  expending 
for  this  purpose  money  earned  as  a  defender  of  Kentucky,  his 
aversion  to  legal  technicalities  and  ignorance  of  legal  forms  pre- 
vented his  taking  care  to  secure  a  perfect  title.  Such  defects  were 
eagerly  hunted  up,  about  this  period,  by  speculators,  and  many 
better  informed  and  more  careful  men  lost  their  lands  by  litigation. 


COLONEL   DANIEL    BOONE. 


223 


224  COLONEL   DANIEL   BOONE. 

As  a  result  of  the  arts  and  rogueries  of  these  speculators,  not  a  foot 
of  land  remained  to  Boone.  Sadly,  but  not  bitterly,  he  resolved 
to  leave  Kentucky,  and  about  1790  he  and  his  faithful  and  be- 
loved wife  removed  to  a  place  near  Point  Pleasant,  on  the  Kana- 
wha  River  in  Virginia.  Here  he  lived  about  five  years,  cultivat- 
ing a  farm,  raising  stock,  and  whenever  possible,  hunting. 

But  to  the  woodsman,  life  in  this  "  highly  civilized  "  region,  as 
it  seemed  to  him,  was  unendurable.  Here  there  were  but  traces 
of  game,  which  must  be  carefully  followed  •  sometimes  (and  these 
occasions  were  fast  growing  more  and  more  frequent)  even  the 
most  skillful  hunter  failed  to  meet  with  success.  "With  eager  in- 
terest he  listened  to  the  adventurers  returned  from  the  far  prai- 
ries west  of  the  Mississippi,  when  they  told  how,  over  the  flat, 
grass-clad  plains  and  the  low  hills,  roamed  vast  herds  of  buffalo  ; 
how  the  wild  duck  haunted  the  borders  of  the  swift  Father  of 
"Waters  and  the  turbid  flood  of  its  chief  tributary  •  how  often  the 
cry  of  the  wild  turkey  was  heard  through  the  forests  that  bor- 
dered the  life-giving  streams.  He  who  had  found  happiness  in  the 
Kentucky  wilderness  longed  for  a  land  where  he  might  make  his 
home  secure  from  the  grasp  of  those  who  wished  to  defraud  j 
whence  he  could  go  to  the  hunting  ground,  and  not  find  it  trans- 
formed to  farms. 

In  this  region  so  favored  by  nature,  the  wandering  hunters  told 
him,  the  people  were  simple  and  straightforward,  honest  and  hon- 
orable, needing  not  the  laws  made  for  those  disposed  to  evil,  nor 
seeking  to  avoid,  through  the  subtilty  of  lawyers,  the  conse- 
quences of  their  own  actions.  To  a  man  of  Boone's  tastes  and 
experience,  a  land  where  lawsuits  and  lawyers  were  unknown 
must  have  seemed  the  very  ideal  of  a  dwelling-place. 

Hither,  then,  in  1795  or  1797,  he  took  up  his  journey.  The 
country  west  of  the  Mississippi  then  belonged  to  the  Crown  of 
Spain,  and  from  the  representative  of  that  royal  owner,  the  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor resident  at  St.  Louis,  he  received  "  assurance 
that  ample  portions  of  land  should  be  given  to  him  and  his  fam- 
ily." The  Femme  Osage  settlement,  the  home  of  his  son  Daniel 
M.  Boone,  was  his  residence  until  1804,  and  it  was  of  this  district 
that  in  1800  he  was  appointed  Commandant.  This  office  com- 
bined civil  and  military  duties,  and  was  held  by  him  until  the 
transfer  of  the  territory  of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States  G-overn- 
ment  in  1803.  Removing  to  the  residence  of  his  youngest  son, 
Maj.  Nathan  Boone,  he  remained  there  until  1810,  when  he  went  to 


COLONEL  DANIEL   BOONE.  225 

live  with  his  son-in-law,  Flanders  Callaway,  in  Callaway  county. 

In  consideration  of  his  official  services  as  Syndic,  ten  thousand 
arpents  of  excellent  land  (about  eight  thousand  five  hundred 
acres)  were  given  to  Colonel  Boone  by  the  Government.  In  ac- 
cordance with  the  special  law,  he  should  have  obtained  a  con- 
firmation of  the  grant  from  the  royal  Governor  at  New  Orleans, 
and  have  taken  up  his  residence  on  the  land.  The  Lieutenant- 
Governor  at  St.  Louis  undertook  to  dispense  with  the  latter  con- 
dition, and  Boone  "  reckoned  all  would  be  right"  without  any 
further  attention  to  formalities  than  was  implied  in  the  original 
grant.  He  probably  trusted  that  justice  would  be  done  by  the 
United  States  Government;  but  the  Commissioners  appointed  to 
decide  on  claims  rejected  Boone's  for  want  of  legal  formalities. 

This,  however,  did  not  occur  for  some  time  after  his  removal  to 
the  state,  so  that  the  first  few  years  spent  within  its  bounds  were 
marked  by  no  ill  luck.  The  office  which  he  held  underthe  Spanish 
Government  was  similar  to  the  present  one  of  justice  of  the  peace, 
with  the  addition  of  military  duties,  but  its  exercise  did  not  re- 
quire all  his  time.  Plenty  of  leisure  remained  for  hunting,  and 
obtaining,  after  two  or  three  seasons,  valuable  furs  in  sufficient 
quantity  to  enable  him  to  pay  some  debts  outstanding  in  Ken- 
tucky, he  went  thither,  and  asking  each  creditor  the  amount  due 
him,  paid  it  without  any  other  guarantee  than  their  assertion. 
Returning  to  Missouri,  though  he  had  but  half  a  dollar  remain- 
ing, he  said  to  his  family : 

"Now  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  die;  I  am  relieved  from  a 
burden  that  has  long  oppressed  me ;  I  have  paid  all  my  debts, 
and  no  one  will  say,  when  I  am  gone,  '  Boone  was  a  dishonest 
man ;'  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  die." 

In  1812,  Colonel  Boone  sent  a  petition  to  Congress,  praying 
that  his  original  claim  be  confirmed.  At  his  request,  the  Ken- 
tucky Legislature,  by  a  series  of  resolutions,  directed  the  Sena- 
tors of  that  state  to  exert  themselves  to  further  this  petition. 
His  appeal  was  neglected  for  some  time;  but  Congress,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1814,  granted  him  one  thousand  arpents — a  tract  of  land 
to  which  any  settler  would  be  entitled. 

During  the  period  of  anxiety  about  his  land,  a  worse  trouble 
came,  in  the  death  of  the  wife  who  had  shared  his  dangers  and 
toils  for  so  many  years.  For  seven  years  he  was  to  live  alone. 

Before  this  he  had  given  up  his  favorite  pursuit  of  hunting, 
even  in  his  last  expeditions  being  attended  by  some  friend  or  ser- 


226 


COLONEL   DANIEL    BOONE. 


vant.  His  time  was  divided  among  his  children,  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Callaway,  his  eldest  daughter,  being  headquarters,  and  the 
home  of  Major  Nathan  Boone  seeing  him  oftenest.  He  employed 
his  time  in  making  powder  horns  for  his  grandchildren,  repairing 
rifles,  and  such  other  work  as  had  been  familiar  to  him  in  past 
years  and  was  not  now  beyond  his  failing  strength.  One  occu- 
pation which  seems  to  us  rather  singular,  was  the  daily  rubbing 
and  polishing  of  a  coffin  which  he  had  had  made  for  himself,  and 
which,  at  his  death,  was  found  in  a  state  of  excellent  finish.  This 
was  the  second  coffin  made  for  him ;  the  first  did  not  fit  to  his 
satisfaction,  so  he  gave  it  to  his  son-in-law,  Flanders  Callaway. 
An  attack  of  fever  prostrated  him  in  September,  1820,  and  on 
the  twenty-sixth  of  that  month,  at  the  residence  of  his  youngest 
son,  he  died,  in  the  eighty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  and  was  buried 
beside  his  wife.  The  Legislature  of  Missouri  passed  resolutions 
of  respect,  adopted  a  badge  of  mourning  for  thirty  days,  and  ad- 
journed for  one  day.  In  1845,  the  people  of  Frankfort,  Ky.,  ob- 
tained the  consent  of  the  family  to  inter  the  bones  of  the  great 
pioneer  and  his  wife  in  the  rural  cemetery  they  had  prepared ; 
and  the  burial  took  place  on  the  20th  of  August  of  that  year. 


THE  GRAVE  OF  3300XE, 


CHAPTER  Till. 


SIM01ST  KENTON. 

I~N  the  year  1771,  there  lived  in  Fauquier  County,  Virginia,  a 
rustic  belle,  who  found  it  impossible  to  decide  between  two 
of  her  many  lovers.  One  of  these  two  was  a  young  farmer,  nam- 
ed William  Leitchman ;  the  other  was  Simon  Kenton,  a  boy  of 
but  sixteen,  but  tall  and  well-formed.  In  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  the  country,  the  matter  was  taken  up  by  the  friends  of 
Leitchman  and  they  administered  a  severe  beating  to  his  young 
rival.  Smarting  under  this  rough  treatment,  and  feeling  no  less 
the  coquette's  admiration  of  the  prowess  of  his  assailants,  Ken- 
ton  determined  upon  revenge.  He  accordingly  challenged  Leitch- 
man to  single  combat.  It  was  a  regular  stand-up  fight,  in  which 
fists  were  the  only  weapons.  Such  was  its  character  at  first,  but 
the  more  matured  strength  of  Leitchman  transformed  it  in  both 
particulars,  as  Kenton  was  soon  brought  to  the  ground,  and  kicks 
as  well  as  cuffs  bestowed  upon  him.  At  last,  however,  he  gained 
the  mastery,  winding  his  rival's  long  hair  about  a  bush  that  was 
near,  and  returning  with  good  interest,  not  only  the  blows,  but 
"the  pangs  of  misprized  love"  as  well.  His  passion  led  him 
farther  than  he  wished,  for  in  a  little  time  his  antagonist  lay  ap- 
parently lifeless  upon  the  ground. 

Frightened  at  the  unexpected  termination,  he  resolved  upon 
immediate  flight.  Through  the  wilderness,  then,  he  went  at  full 
speed,  the  dark  shadow  of  the  gallows  clouding  his  way,  and 
urging  him  onward.  For  better  concealment,  he  resolved  to  drop 
the  name  of  Kenton,  which  might  betray  him,  if  a  reward  were 
offered  for  his  apprehension,  and  assume  that  of  Butler.  It  is  as 
Simon  Butler,  then,  that  for  many  years  he  is  known  in  the  his- 
tory of  Kentucky. 

Not  yet,  however,  was  he  destined  to  reach  the  fertile  land 
with  whose  welfare  his  own  was  to  be  so  closely  connected  in  the 
future.  Falling  in  with  various  parties  of  adventurers  and  ex- 
15 


228  SIMON    KENTON. 

plorers,  he  at  last  became  acquainted  with  two  companions,  Ya- 
ger and  Strader,  the  former  having  been  captured  by  the  Indians 
when  a  child,  and  kept  by  them  for  many  years.  He  described 
to  Kenton  an  earthly  paradise,  which  was  familiar  to  him  in  his 
childhood  by  the  name  of  Kan-tuck-ee,  saying  that  it  was  to  be 
reached  by  descending  the  Ohio.  So  confident  was  he  in  his  own 
powers  as  a  guide  that  Strader  and  Kenton  procured  &  canoe, 
and  the  three  young  men  set  out.  After  rowing  for  several  days 
they  became  rather  incredulous,  telling  Yager  that  he  must  have 
confused  different  localities,  and  in  spite  of  his  protestations  to 
the  contrary,  they  insisted  upon  returning  to  Virginia.  They 
then  went  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Great  Kanawha,  and  spent 
nearly  two  years  in  that  locality,  engaged  in  the  congenial  and 
profitable  labors  of  hunting  and  trapping. 

Attacked  by  a  party  of  Indians  in  March,  1773,  they  were  driven 
from  their  tent.  As  they  fled,  Strader  fell  by  a  shot  from  the  as- 
sailants, but  Kenton  and  Yager  were  more  successful  in  their  re- 
treat. But  so  hurried  had  been  their  flight,  that  they  had  neither 
guns,  blankets  nor  provisions — neither  food  nor  shelter,  nor  the 
means  of  procuring  it.  For  five  days  they  journeyed  through 
the  trackless  forests,  with  no  guide  towards  the  Ohio,  their  pro- 
posed destination,  except  the  moss  on  the  northward  side  of  the 
trees,  and  no  food  but  the  roots  which  they  found  on  the  way. 
Completely  exhausted  by  their  rapid  flight  and  by  hunger,  they 
reached  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  at  sunset  on  the  fifth  day,  and  ob- 
tained a  supply  of  provisions  from  a  party  of  traders  that  they 
found  there.  Meeting  soon  after  with  another  party  of  explor- 
ers, Kenton  obtained  a  gun  and  some  ammunition,  and,  plunging 
alone  into  the  forest,  lived  a  hunter's  life  there  until  late  in  the 
summer. 

Joining  somewhat  later  another  party  of  adventurers,  he  left 
them  in  1774,  when  Dunmore's  war  broke  out.  During  the  whole 
of  this  contest  between  the  two  races,  the  names  of  Simon  Butler 
and  Simon  G-irty  were  well  known  as  among  the  most  efficient 
spies  employed  by  Lord  Bunmore.  In  their  later  years,  the  one 
was  honored  as  a  brave  man  and  a  faithful  champion  of  the  white 
man,  the  other  reviled  as  a  traitor  and  a  renegade. 

Kenton  had  not  yet  given  up  the  idea  of  finding  the  place  de- 
scribed by  Yager,  and  when  the  troops  were  disbanded  at  the 
close  of  the  war,  he,  together  with  two  others,  set  out  in  the  di- 
rection indicated.  After  considerable  wandering,  they  built  a 


SIMON   KENTON.  229 

cabin  where  "Washington,  Ky.,  now  stands,  and  planted  a  small 
clearing  with  corn.  In  the  forest,  one  day,  he  met  with  two  men, 
Fitzpatrick  and  Hendricks,  whom  Kenton  invited  to  remain  at 
-his  cabin.  In  descending  the  Ohio,  their  canoe  had  been  over- 
turned, and  such  had  been  their  experience  in  their  endeavors  to 
find  the  settlements,  that  Fitzpatrick  was  thoroughly  disgusted, 
and  refused  to  stay.  Hendricks  accepted  the  invitation,  and  re- 
mained at  the  cabin  while  the  others  escorted  his  late  companion 
to  "  The  Point,"  the  site  of  the  modern  Maysville.  Having  seen 
him  safely  across  the  river,  and  provided  him  with  a  gun  and 
some  ammunition,  they  returned  to  the  camp,  where  they  had  left 
Hendricks  without  a  gun,  but  with  a  bountiful  supply  of  food. 
They  arrived  at  the  cabin  only  to  find  it  deserted,  pierced  here 
and  there  by  bullets,  and  the  various  articles  in  much  confusion. 
From  a  low,  bushy  ravine  not  far  from  the  clearing  rose  the  thick 
smoke  that  comes  from  a  newly  kindled  fire ;  strong  must  the  In- 
dians be,  when  they  so  boldly  encamped  near  the  dwelling  of 
their  victim's  companions,  and  Kenton  and  his  two  friends,  judg- 
ing that  it  would  be  too  unequal  a  contest,  beat  a  hasty  retreat 
into  the  woods.  The  evening  of  the  next  day  they  returned 
cautiously  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  camp,  to  find  the  fire 
smouldering,  the  Indians  gone,  and  the  ground  strewn  with  the 
bones  of  their  luckless  companion.  At  the  time  of  their  return, 
Hendricks  had  probably  been  alive;  perhaps  the  Indians  were 
not  so  numerous  as  they  had  feared,  and  a  sudden,  sharp  attack 
might  have  saved  him  from  that  most  horrible  of  deaths. 

Slowly  they  retraced  their  steps  to  the  cabin  at  Washington, 
pondering  on  the  uncertainty  of  their  lives,  and  filled  with  use- 
less regrets  for  their  comrade.  In  the  following  September,  a 
wandering  hunter  told  them  of  the  settlements  in  the  interior  of 

te  state,  and  especially  of  the  fort  at  Boonesborough.  That  this 
was  pleasant  news  to  them,  is  shown  by  their  leaving  the  camp 
at  Washington,  and  setting  out,  through  the  forest,  to  visit  the  dif- 
ferent stations  established  in  various  parts  of  the  state. 

What  became  of  his  two  companions  is  not  recorded,  but  Ken- 
ton  went  to  Boonesborough,  where  he  participated  in  two  sieges, 
and  served  as  a  spy  with  most  excellent  success.  It  was  during  the 
year  1777,  while  Kenton  was  in  Boonesborough,  that  several  men 
in  the  fields  near  by  were  attacked  by  Indians,  and  ran  to  the 
fort.  One  of  the  savages  overtook  and  tomahawked  a  white  man, 
but  while  stooping  to  scalp  him,  was  covered  by  Kenton' s  uner- 


230 


SIMON   KENTON. 


ring  rifle.  A  sharp  crack,  and  the  Indian  fell  prostrate  over  his 
victim.  Boone,  with  thirteen  men,  of  whom  Kenton  was  one, 
sallied  to  the  relief  of  the  others  ;  half  of  the  number,  including 


SIMON   KENTON.  $531 

•» 

the  leader,  were  wounded  at  the  first  fire,  and  an  Indian  had  al- 
ready stooped,  tomahawk  in  hand,  over  the  white  chief  whose 
cool  courage  they  so  much  feared,  when  Kenton,  with  the  spring 
of  the  panther,  slew  the  Indian,  and  catching  up  into  his  arms 
the  body  of  the  leader,  bore  it  safely  into  the  fort.  "When  the 
gates  were  securely  closed,  Boone  sent  for  Kenton,  his  sense  of 
gratitude  having  overcome  his  usual  taciturnity.  Yet  so  unused 
was  he  to  courtly  phrase  that  all  he  could  say  was,  "  "Well,  Simon, 
you  have  behaved  yourself  like  a  man  to-day.  Indeed,  you  are 
a  fine  fellow." 

Perhaps  the  young  giant  of  twenty-two,  standing  there  before 
the  already  famous  pioneer,  appreciated  the  praise  more  than  any 
one  else  could ;  for  he  knew  how  much  meaning  there  was  in 
these  few  words  from  that  man  of  action. 

In  the  expedition  that  Boone  led  against  the  Indian  towns  in 
the  summer  of  1778,  Kenton  did  good  service  as  a  spy,  although 
not  without  danger  to  himself.  After  having  crossed  the  Ohio, 
being  on  one  occasion  considerably  in  advance  of  the  rest,  the 
sound  of  a  voice  from  an  adjoining  thicket  caused  him  to  halt  and 
take  his  post  behind  a  tree.  Soon  there  emerged  from  the  thicket 
two  Indians,  both  mounted  on  one  pony,  and  in  the  highest  good 
humor.  Totally  unsuspicious  of  danger  as  they  were,  one  fell 
dead  and  the  other  wounded,  by  Kenton' s  fire.  But  this  seeming 
success  was  an  unlucky  thing  for  him,  for  just  as  he  was  about  to 
scalp  his  victims,  he  was  almost  surrounded  by  a  party  of  about 
forty  Indians.  By  dint  of  hard  running,  and  dodging  from  the 
shelter  of  one  tree  to  that  of  another,  he  managed  to  elude  them 
until  the  main  party  came  up,  and  in  a  furious  attack,  defeated 
the  savages.  Boone  returned  to  the  fort  with  all  of  his  party  ex- 
cept Kenton  and  a  young  man  named  Montgomery,  of  whom  we 
shall  hear  again.  These  kept  on  to  the  Indian  village,  to  "  get  a 
shot,"  and  supply  themselves  with  horses.  For  two  days  and  a 
night  they  lay  within  rifle  range  of  the  town,  but  met  with  no 
success  in  their  first  amicable  purpose.  In  the  second,  however, 
they  were  more  fortunate,  for  it  was  on  good  horses  that  once 
belonged  to  Indians,  that  they  rode  into  the  fort  after  the  siege 
was  raised. 

About  the  first  of  September  of  this  same  year  Kenton  and  Mont- 
gomery, with  a  companion  named  Clark,  set  out  to  the  Indian 
town  of  Chillicothe  with  the  avowed  purpose  of  stealing  horses, 
and  there  seems  to  have  been  no  opposition  to  the  expedition 


232  SIMON   KENTON. 

from  those  older  and  presumably  wiser  settlers  who  remained  in 
the  fort.  Probably  Boone  was  not  there,  having  returned  to 
North  Carolina  for  his  family ;  for  Kenton,  as  we  shall  see,  dis- 
claimed being  directed  by  him. 

They  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  town  without  meet- 
ing with  any  adventures,  and  soon  discovered  a  drove  of  horses 
feeding  quietly  upon  the  rich  blue-grass  of  the  prairie.  Being 
well  provided  with  salt  and  halters,  they  succeeded  in  capturing 
seven,  and  much  elated  with  their  good  luck,  made  off  with  their 
prizes.  Towards  the  Ohio  they  went  with  all  speed,  expecting  to 
reach  the  settlement  some  time  in  the  night;  but  such  a  storm 
arose  that  they  found  it  impossible  to  cross.  The  wind  blew 
almost  a  hurricane,  lashing  the  swift  current  of  the  river  into 
waves  like  those  of  the  sea,  and  through  which  the  terrified  horses 
had  no  mind  to  go.  Nothing  was  left  for  them  to  do  but  to  ride 
back  a  little  distance  into  the  hills  and  turn  the  horses  loose  to 
graze.  In  the  morning  the  wind  had  fallen,  but  the  horses  re- 
fused to  enter  the  water,  remembering,  doubtless,  the  storm  of 
the  previous  day.  Knowing  the  Indians  would  probably  be  in 
pursuit  of  them,  they  determined  to  select  the  three  best  of  the 
seven,  and  make  their  way  to  the  falls  of  the  Ohio,  where  some 
men  had  been  stationed  by  General  Clark.  Acting  on  this  plan, 
four  of  the  horses  were  turned  loose.  Hardly  had  they  set  out, 
however,  when  they  regretted  what  they  had  done,  and  returned 
to  recapture  the  animals  which  by  this  time  had  strayed  out  of 
sight. 

The  little  party  separated,  and  the  three  men  went  in  different 
directions,  Kenton  bending  his  steps  toward  the  point  where  they 
had  tried  to  cross  the  river  on  the  preceding  day.  Before  long 
he  heard  a  wild  whoop  from  the  direction  in  which  he  was  going. 
Dismounting  and  tying  his  horse,  he  crept  stealthily  towards  the 
sound,  to  make  observations.  Reaching  the  high  bank  of  the 
river,  he  saw  the  Indians  very  near  him,  but  was  himself  unper- 
ceived.  So  close  to  him  was  the  party,  that,  seeing  he  could  not 
retreat  unseen,  he  adopted  the  boldest,  because  the  safest  plan, 
and  aimed  at  the  foremost  Indian.  His  gun  flashed  in  the  pan. 
With  the  speed  of  the  startled  deer  he  ran  through  the  forest, 
where  the  storm  had  torn  up  tree  after  tree  by  the  roots,  and  laid 
them  prostrate  on  the  earth.  After  him  came  the  force  of  mounted 
Indians,  but  so  much  did  the  fallen  timber  retard  them  that  they 
divided  into  two  parties,  and  rode  around  the  obstructions.  Just 


KENTON.  233 

as  Kenton  emerged  from  the  timber,  he  was  met  by  one  of  the 
Indians,  who  rode  up,  jumped  from  his  horse  and  rushed  at  him 
with  uplifted  weapon.  Drawing  back,  in  order  to  strike  the  In- 
dian with  Ms  gun  before  the  tomahawk  could  be  used,  Kenton 
found  himself  in  the  embrace  of  an  Indian  who  had  slipped  up 
behind.  The  main  body  having  come  up,  resistance  was  useless, 
and  Kenton  surrendered.  While  the  Indians  were  binding  Ken- 
ton  with  tugs,  Montgomery  fired  at  them,  but  missing  his  aim, 
fled  and  was  pursued  by  those  not  guarding  Kenton.  Soon  the 


KENTON'S  MAZEPPA  HIDE. 

party  returned,  displaying  before  the  eyes  of  the  miserable  cap- 
tive the  bloody  scalp  of  his  companion.  Clark  had  escaped  their 
clutches,  and  soon  afterward  arrived  safely  at  Logan's  Fort. 

According  to  their  usual  custom,  the  Indians  took  their  prison- 
er with  them  to  their  own  townof  Chillicothe, thereto  determine 
his  fate  in  solemn  council.  When  they  were  ready  to  set  out 
towards  that  place,  they  proceeded  to  secure  their  prisoner  in 
such  a  way  as  to  prevent  his  escape,  and  at  the  same  time  provide 
them  with  as  much  amusement  as  possible.  Catching  the  wild- 
est horse  in  their  company,  they  lashed  their  prisoner  on  it,  ty- 
ing his  feet  together  under  the  horse,  fastening  his  arms  with  a 
rope  and  then  covering  them  with  a  pair  of  moccasins ;  then  ty- 


234  SIMON   KENTON. 

ing  a  rope  around  his  neck,  and  securing  one  end  to  the  horse's 
neck,  they  tied  the  other  end  to  his  tail  to  answer  for  a  crupper. 
Of  course  only  a  limited  number  could  assist  in  the  preparations  j 
so  the  majority  amused  themselves  by  dancing  around  him  and 
inquiring,  tauntingly: 

"  You  steal  Injun  hoss  again  ?  Injun  got  heap  good  hoss — you 
steal  some?  Long-knife  like  Injun  hoss  —  steal  whole  drove. 
Long-knife  on  Injun  hoss  now,  but  he  no  steal  it." 

The  wild  young  horse  was  set  free  from  their  restraint,  and 
ran,  rearing  and  plunging,  into  the  woods.  The  moccasins  on 
his  hands  prevented  Kenton  from  defending  himself  from  the 
overhanging  branches,  and  he  was  so  securely  tied  that  there  was 
no  possibility  of  escape. 

The  horse,  finding  that  he  could  not  rid  himself  of  his  burden, 
returned  to  the  company  of  his  fellows,  and  jogged  along  with 
them  quietly  enough.  At  night  the  prisoner  was  as  securely  bound 
as  by  day.  Laid  on  his  back,  each  foot  was  tied  to  a  stake  driven 
into  the  ground  for  that  purpose.  His  extended  arms  were  lashed 
to  a  pole  laid  across  his  breast,  and  a  rope  tied  around  his  neck, 
almost  tight  enough  to  choke  him,  was  fastened  to  a  neighboring 
tree.  In  this  uncomfortable  position,  at  the  mercy  of  the  numer- 
ous swarms  of  gnats  and  mosquitoes,  he  passed  three  nights.  The 
last  of  these  was  at  the  encampment  about  a  mile  from  Chillicothe, 
where  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  came  to  welcome  the  war- 
riors and  their  prisoner.  For  about  three  hours  this  party  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  tormented  the  luckless  captive,  dancing 
and  yelling  around  him,  stopping  occasionally  to  beat  and  kick 
him.  Returning  to  town  after  this  diversion,  they  left  him  for 
the  rest  of  the  night  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  gnats  and  mos- 
quitoes. 

As  soon  as  it  was  light  in  the  morning,  they  returned  to  the 
camp  to  make  preparations  for  more  amusement.  Kenton  was 
doomed  to  run  the  gauntlet.  The  warriors  formed  in  two  lines, 
about  six  feet  apart,  each  armed  with  a  stout  hickory,  so  that 
they  could  beat  him  as  much  as  they  pleased.  Nor  was  this 
all.  Kenton,  his  sharp  eyes  made  sharper  by  the  danger,  saw 
more  than  one  knife  drawn  to  plunge  into  him.  Familiar  with 
the  custom  of  the  savages,  he  broke  through  the  line  before  reach- 
ing the  first  Indian  so  armed,  trusting  to  reach  the  council  house 
before  they  could  overtake  him;  if  he  should  succeed  in  doing  so, 
he  would  not  be  again  compelled  to  run  the  gauntlet.  With  all 


SIMON   KENTON. 


235 


his  speed  he  ran,  pursued  by  two  or  three  hundred  Indians,  yell- 
ing  like  as  many  devils  let  loose.  He  might  have  been  able  to 
reach  the  goal  if  he  had  not  met  an  Indian,  walking  leisurely 
from  the  town:  with  this  unexpected  foe  to  contend  with  besides 


DESPERATE   EFFORT  TO  ESCAPE. 


the  yelling  horde  behind,  and  exhausted  by  all  that  he  had  under- 
gone during  the  past  three  days,  he  was  soon  caught  and  thrown 
down.  The  others  came  up,  and  there  was  a  repetition  of  tho 
night's  performances;  they  danced  and  shouted,  beating  and 
kicking  him  to  their  heart's  content.  Then,  fearful  that  his 


236  SIMON  KENTON. 

strength  might  give  way  before  they  were  sufficiently  amused, 
they  brought  him  food  and  water. 

As  soon  as  he  was  thus  refreshed,  they  took  him  to  the  council 
house,  where  his  fate  was  to  be  decided.  The  warriors  placed 
themselves  in  a  circle,  an  old  chief  standing  in  their  midst,  with 
a  knife  and  a  stick.  Although  Kenton  did  not  understand  their 
language,  the  glance  of  the  eye  and  the  movements  of  the  hands 
told  him  plainly  that  many  urged  his  death. 

The  speeches  were  at  an  end,  and  the  old  chief  handed  a  war- 
club  to  the  warrior  who  sat  near  the  door.  By  means  of  this  the 
vote  was  to  be  taken,  a  blow  upon  the  ground  meaning  death, 
while  simply  passing  it  to  the  next  meant  life.  Here,  again, 
Kenton  could  discern  their  meaning  by  their  gestures,  and  the 
votes  for  his  death  were  by  far  the  more  numerous.  The  old  chief 
tallied  all  on  his  stick,  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other,  and 
soon  declared  the  result,  when  sentence  of  death  was  passed  up- 
on the  prisoner. 

There  was  another  question  to  be  decided  which  demanded 
hardly  less  careful  consideration;  this  was  the  time  and  place  of 
execution.  Whether  he  should  be  put  to  death  immediately,  or 
reserved  for  solemn  sacrifice  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  tribe, 
was  debated  with  considerable  warmth.  The  latter  opinion  pre- 
vailed, and  they  set  out  with  him  toward  Wapatomika.  Passing 
through  two  other  Indian  towns  on  the  way,  Kenton  was  com- 
pelled to  run  the  gauntlet  at  both,  being  severely  beaten.  All 
this  time  there  had  been  not  a  single  opportunity  to  escape,  but 
being  carelessly  guarded  at  the  latter  town  they  passed  through, 
he  made  a  break  and  ran.  However  hopeless  his  escape  from  this 
large  body  might  seem,  nothing  but  death  could  follow  failure, 
and  he  had  for  days  past  endured  a  living  death.  In  spite  of  all 
the  exhausting  tortures  which  he  had  undergone  since  his  capture, 
he  distanced  his  pursuers,  and  his  hopes  rose  high;  only  to  be 
dashed  down,  however,  for  when  he  reached  a  point  about  two 
miles  from  the  town,  he  met  a  large  party  of  Indians,  on  their 
way  to  join  his  tormentors.  These,  recapturing  him,  took  him 
back  to  the  town,  and  gave  him  again  into  the  hands  of  his  orig- 
inal captors. 

The  last  ray  of  hope  had  gone  out  in  the  night  of  despair. 
There  seemed  no  chance  of  life,  and  Kenton  sullenly  gave  him- 
self up  to  his  fate.  Of  the  horror  of  his  doom  he  had  already 
had  a  foretaste,  made  doubly  dreadful  as  it  was  by  the  love  of 


SIMON   KENTON.  237 

life  so  strong  at  three-and-twenty.  With  the  calmness  of  despair 
he  looked  upon  the  yelling  horde  around  him,  conveying  him  to 
Wapatomika  and  the  stake.  Already  had  his  skin  been  stained 
with  the  black  dye  which  showed  him  condemned  to  death,  when 
the  renegade  white  man,  Simon  Girty,  approached  him.  Com- 
rades-in-arms had  they  been,  while  serving  together  in  Dunmore's 
war;  thence  one  had  joined  the  Kentucky  settlers,  and  the  other, 
after  serving  a  short  time  in  the  American  army  against  the 
British,  had  deserted  to  the  Indians,  the  allies  of  the  latter. 
Like  all  apostates,  he  became  worse  than  those  who  were  "to  the 
manor  born,"  and  for  twenty  years  his  name  was  the  terror  of 
the  border;  could  anything  be  hoped  from  the  man  who  was 
more  savage  than  his  terrible  allies,  who  spared  not  man,  woman 
or  child  ?  At  his  belt  hung  the  scalps,  still  reeking  with  blood, 
with  which  he  had  just  returned  ;  near  by  were  his  prisoners,  a 
woman  and  seven  children. 

When  Kenton  had  entered  the  council-house  at  Wapatomika, 
he  had  been  greeted  with  such  a  scowl  from  all  assembled  there 
as  would  have  made  his  heart  sink  if  he  had  still  entertained  any 
hope.  Now,  however,  he  felt  it  was  welcomed,  as  showing  that 
the  inevitable  end  was  near. 

Throwing  a  blanket  on  the  floor,  Girty,  in  his  harshest  tones, 
ordered  him  to  take  a  seat  upon  it.  Angered  by  a  momentary 
delay,  the  "white  savage  "  caught  the  prisoner's  arm,  and  jerking 
him  roughly  upon  the  blanket,  pulled  him  down  upon  it.  In  the 
same  forbidding  tone  Girty  asked  him  how  many  men  there  were 
in  Kentucky.  Kenton,  true  to  the  last,  answered  that  he  did  not 
know,  but  that  he  could  name  the  officers  and  state  the  rank,  and 
the  questioner  could  judge  for  himself.  Thereupon  he  proceeded 
to  name  every  man  to  whose  name  a  military  "  handle"  was  at- 
tached, whether  he  had  a  command  or  not,  and  succeeded  in  giving 
an  impression  that  the  whites  were  much  stronger  than  they  were 
in  reality.  In  response  to  an  inquiry  about  William  Stewart, 
Kenton  said  that  he  was  an  old  and  intimate  acquaintance. 

"  What  is  your  own  name  ?  "  was  the  next  question. 

"  Simon  Butler,"  answered  the  prisoner.  The  effect  was  elec- 
trical. Springing  from  his  seat,  Girty  embraced  his  old  compan- 
ion with  all  the  ardor  of  a  more  emotional  nature.  Turning  to 
the  assembled  warriors,  he  spoke  in  defense  of  his  friend.  They 
had  trodden  the  war-path  side  by  side,  and  had  slept  under  the 
same  blanket.  His  emotion  made  him  eloquent: 


238  SIMON    KENTOrf. 

"  Shall  I  be  denied  this  one  thing  ?  Warriors  of  the  Shawnees, 
when  has  the  hand  of  Katepacomen  been  clean,  when  that  of  his 
Indian  brother  was  bathed  in  blood  ?  Has  Katepacomen  ever 
spared  the  white  man's  scalp  ?  Has  he  not  brought  to  Wapato- 
mika  eight  prisoners  ?  Do  not  seven  fresh  scalps  hang  at  his  belt? 
Now  the  white  brother  of  Katepacomen  has  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  his  Indian  brothers  and  they  wish  to  torture  him.  Shall 
Katepacomen  stand  by  and  see  his  brother  eaten  by  the  flames  ? 
To  those  who  are  born  warriors  of  the  Shawnees,  the  life  of  a 
white  prisoner  is  given  for  the  asking  ;  will  my  brothers  deny  so 
little  a  thing  to  the  brother  born  among  the  white  men,  who  has 
chosen  to  live  among  the  Indians?" 

No  voice  but  his  own  broke  the  stillness;  when  he  finished,  the 
deep,  guttural  tones  of  the  chiefs  spoke  both  approval  and  disap- 
proval. Some  of  them  urged  that  the  prisoner  had  already  been 
condemned  to  death,  and  that  they  would  be  acting  like  squaws 
to  be  changing  their  minds  every  hour.  Besides  this,  the  pris- 
oner richly  deserved  his  doom;  not  only  had  he  stolen  their 
horses,  but  he  had  flashed  his  gun  at  one  of  their  young  men,  and 
had  tried  his  best  to  escape.  So  bad  a  man  could  never  be  a  bro- 
ther to  them,  as  was  G-irty ;  he  could  never  be  an  Indian  in  his 
heart,  like  Katepacomen.  More  than  this,  many  of  their  people 
had  come  a  great  distance  to  witness  the  execution,  and  after 
coming  so  far,  it  would  be  cruel  to  disappoint  them. 

Girty  listened  impatiently  to  this  pathetic, pleading  for  the  en- 
joyment of  the  people.  No  sooner  had  the  young  warriors  con- 
cluded their  speeches  than  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  spoke  again 
in  favor  of  his  friend : 

"Has  Katepacomen  ever  spared  the  white  man's  scalp?  Has 
he  ever  before  pleaded  for  the  life  of  a  captive  ?  Never  before 
has  he  asked  a  boon  of  his  Indian  brothers,  and  now  this,  which 
they  would  grant  without  hesitation  to  one  of  their  own  race,, 
they  would  refuse  to  him.  If  the  warriors  of  the  Shawnees  trust 
in  the  good  faith  and  love  of  Katepacomen,  let  them  give  him  the 
life  of  his  white  brother." 

Not  a  word  did  Kenton  understand  of  these  speeches,  since  all 
used  the  Shawnee  tongue.  At  length  the  discussion  came  to  an 
end,  and  the  war-club  was  passed  around  the  assembly,  that  the 
vote  might  be  taken.  This  time  the  decision  was  for  life.  Hav- 
ing thus  succeeded  in  his  endeavors,  Girty  conducted  his  friend 
to  his  own  wigwam  and  fitted  him  out  from  his  own  wardrobe, 


SIMON   KENTON. 


239 


Kenton's  clothes  having  been  torn  from  him  by  the  infuriated 
savages.  For  three  weeks  they  lived  a  perfectly  quiet  life,  Ken- 
ton  meeting  with  the  most  friendly  and  cordial  treatment  from  the 


SIMON  GIRTY,   THE  RENEGADE. 

very  chiefs  who  had  most  violently  opposed  Girty's  pleadings.    • 

About  twenty  days  after  his  deliverance,  as  Girty,  Kenton  and 

an  Indian  named  Eedpole  were  walking  together,  they  were  met 


240  SIMON   KENTON. 

by  another  Indian,  who  repeatedly  uttered  a  peculiar  whoop. 
This,  Girty  informed  him,  was  the  distress  halloo,  and  summoned 
them  to  the  council-house.  Kenton  had  no  particular  love  for 
any  council-house  whatever ;  he  would  have  much  preferred  to 
give  them  all  a  wide  berth,  and  not  hold  any  very  intimate  com- 
munication with  those  who  were  assembled  there ;  but  there  was 
no  choice. 

The  Indian  who  had  hallooed,  saluted  them,  and  readily  gave 
his  hand  to  Girty  and  Eedpole,  but  refused  Kenton's.  This  was 
ominous.  It  was  but  the  beginning  of  what  was  to  come  ;  on 
reaching  the  council-house,  no  one  of  the  warriors  there  assem- 
bled would  give  his  hand  to  Kenton.  Many  of  the  chiefs  were 
strangers  from  distant  towns,  and  the  assembly  was  larger  than 
in  either  of  the  other  councils.  Once  again  the  impassioned  de- 
bate was  held — Girty  pleading  for  his  friend,  the  savages  thirst- 
ing for  his  blood.  But  the  eloquence  which  had  before  proven 
so  effective  was  lost  upon  the  stranger  warriors,  and  turning  to 
Kenton,  the  "  white  savage"  said,  with  a  suspicious  brightness  in 
his  eyes : 

"  Well,  my  friend,  you  must  die." 

A  strange  chief  seized  the  captive  by  the  collar,  and  he  was 
quickly  bound  and  committed  to  a  guard.  With  him  they  instant- 
ly set  off,  the  Indians  being  on  horseback,  and  Kenton  on  foot, 
a  rope  tied  around  his  neck,  one  end  being  held  by  one  of  the 
guard.  About  two  and  a  half  miles  from  Wapatomika,  Girty 
overtook  them  and  told  Kenton  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  the 
next  village,  in  order  to  secure  the  influence  of  some  friends  he 
had  there.  But  there,  as  in  Wapatomika,  the  eloquence  of  Kate- 
pacomen  was  in  vain,  and  the  white  savage,  the  terror  of  the  bor- 
der, the  most  ruthless  of  the  children  of  the  wilderness,  returned 
by  another  route  to  his  home.  He  could  not  again  see  the  friend 
he  could  not  save. 

When  they  had  gone  two  or  three  miles  beyond  the  first  vil- 
lage they  saw,  a  few  yards  from  the  trail,  a  squaw  chopping  wood, 
while  her  lord  the  warrior  sat  by  smoking,  to  see  that  she 
worked  industriously.  The  very  sight  of  Kenton  set  on  fire  the 
hot  blood  in  his  veins,  and  snatching  the  axe  from  the  hand  of 
the  patient  toiler,  he  rushed  upon  the  captive,  and  before  any 
defense  could  be  made,  dealt  a  blow  which  crushed  through  his 
shoulder,  shattering  the  bone,  and  almost  severing  the  arm  from 
the  body.  Eaising  the  axe  for  a  second  time,  his  arm  was 


SIMON   KENTON.  241 

stopped  by  Kenton' s  guard,  who  reproached  him  with  wishing  to 
rob  them  of  pleasure  by  the  premature  murder  of  the  victim. 

Arriving  at  a  large  village  on  the  head  waters  of  the  Scioto, 
they  halted  for  the  night.  Here,  a  chief  of  striking  and  manly 
appearance,  of  calm  and  noble  front,  speaking  English  fluently 
and  well,  his  utterance  such  as  persuades  men  to  do  his  will, 
came  up  to  Kenton.  It  was  Logan,  the  eloquent  chief  of  the  Min- 
goes,  so  highly  praised  by  the  author  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. Struck  by  the  manly  beauty  and  soldierly  bearing  of 
the  young  captive,  or  perhaps  moved  only  by  his  misfortunes, 
Logan,  after  exchanging  a  few  words  with  Kenton,  said  to  him  : 

"Well,  don't  be  disheartened ;  I  am  a  great  chief;  you  are  to 
go  to  Sandusky — they  speak  of  burning  you  there, — but  I  will 
send  two  runners  to-morrow  to  speak  good  £or  you." 

Cheered  by  this  promise,  Kenton  remained  quietly  at  Logan's 
lodge  all  night  and  the  next  day,  being  permitted  to  spend  much 
of  the  time  with  the  benevolent  chief.  Logan  kept  his  promise, 
and  the  runners  were  despatched  to  Sandusky  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, returning  in  the  evening.  After  their  return,  Logan  avoided 
seeing  Kenton  until  the  succeeding  morning,  when,  walking  up 
to  him,  accompanied  by  the  guards,  he  said  : 

"  You  are  to  be  taken  to  Sandusky." 

Giving  him  a  piece  of  bread,  the  chief,  without  uttering  another 
word,  turned  and  walked  away. 

Kenton  had  been  consumed  by  the  most  intense  anxiety  since 
the  return  of  the  messengers,  and  the  conduct  of  the  friendly  chief 
did  not  tend  to  reassure  him.  There  was  nothing  to  conjecture 
but  that  Logan  had  overrated  his  influence,  that  his  intercession 
had  been  as  useless  as  Girty's,  and  that  Kenton  must  meet  the 
dreadful  fate  decreed  by  the  council.  To  Sandusky,  then,  they 
marched,  his  hope  at  the  lowest  ebb.  It  seemed  that  every  friendly 
power  failed  when  exerted  in  his  behalf,  no  matter  how  strong 
it  might  be  in  other  directions.  Despite  the  exertions  of  these 
two  friends,  he  was  to  be  burnt  at  Sandusky  the  morning  after 
his  arrival. 

But  even  then,  when  only  a  few  hours  of  life  seemed  to  remain 
to  him,  an  apparent  enemy  was  transformed  into  a  powerful 
friend. 

This  was  Captain  Drewyer,  a  French  Canadian  in  the  employ 
of  the  British  government  as  Indian  agent.  He  represented  to 
the  Indians  the  value,  to  the  commandant  at  Detroit,  of  a  prisoner 


242  SIMON   KENTON. 

intimately  acquainted  with  the  settlements  in  Kentucky,  and  by 
appealing  first  to  their  cupidity,  and  then  to  their  fears,  his  bribes 
and  threats  secured  the  loan  of  Kenton,  it  being  expressly  stip- 
ulated, however,  that  when  all  possible  information  had  been  ex- 
tracted from  him,  he  should  be  returned  to  them  for  their  own 
purposes. 

Drewyer  immediately  set  out  for  Detroit  with  his  prisoner. 
While  they  were  on  their  journey,  he  told  Kenton  on  what  terms 
he  was  released  from  immediate  danger,  adding  that  he  (  Drew- 
yer) had  no  intention  of  keeping  his  promise  by  delivering  up  to 
such  inhuman  wretches  the  life  in  his  power.  Continuing  in  this 
strain,  lauding  his  own  generosity,  he  began  to  question  Kenton 
as  to  the  number  of  men  in  Kentucky,  and  the  state  of  defense. 
Kenton  replied  that  he  was  only  a  private,  obeying  orders  given 
by  those  who  had  the  direction  of  affairs  ;  that  being  in  so  low  a 
rank,  his  range  of  vision  was  but  narrow,  not  enabling  him  to 
judge  of  the  general  condition  of  things  ;  that  he  had  no  taste  for 
meddling  with  others,  for  he  had  found  it  quite  enough  to  take 
care  of  himself — sometimes  more  than  he  could  do.  After  this 
reply,  he  was  troubled  with  no  more  questions. 

Arriving  in  Detroit  early  in  October,  he  remained  there  in  a 
state  of  easy  restraint,  for  eight  months.  Restricted  to  certain 
rather  wide  boundaries  during  the  day,  and  obliged  to  report 
every  morning  to  a  British  officer,  there  was  no  other  condition 
attached  to  his  comings  and  goings.  Some  time  was  required  for 
his  recovery  from  the  effects  of  the  Indians'  brutality,  but,  once 
strong  and  well,  the  young  freeman  longed  for  his  wild  home 
again.  To  escape  from  Detroit  was  easy  enough,  but  it  would 
be  more  difficult  to  journey  safely  through  the  wilderness,  alone 
and  unarmed,  a  distance  of  two  hundred  miles,  among  Indians 
who  were  eager  for  his  death.  Even  setting  aside  the  latter  con- 
sideration, there  would  be,  in  those  trackless  forests,  no  food  but 
the  wild  game,  which  could  not  be  killed  without  a  gun. 

Carefully  and  secretly  he  laid  and  worked  out  his  plans.  Two 
young  Kentuckians,  taken  with  Boone  at  the  Blue  Licks  and  pur- 
chased by  the  British,  shared  his  thirst  for  liberty,  and  the  three 
patiently  awaited  their  opportunity.  The  most  difficult  thing 
was  to  obtain  guns  and  ammunition  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  commandant,  but  even  this  was  overcome;  Kenton  bought  of 
two  Indians,  plied  with  rum  for  the  purpose,  their  guns,  and  hid 
the  precious  purchase  in  the  woods.  Managing  to  get  another 


SIMON  KENTON.  243 

rifle,  and  a  supply  of  ammunition,  through  a  citizen  of  the  town, 
they  set  out  on  their  lonely  and  perilous  journey.  Traveling 
only  at  night,  they  reached  Louisville  after  a  march  of  just  one 
month.  Ten  months  hefore,  Kenton  had  started  out,  in  company 
with  Montgomery  and  Clark,  to  the  town  of  Chillicothe.  In  the 
space  of  a  month,  he  had  been  exposed  to  the  ordeal  called  run- 
ning the  gauntlet  no  less  than  eight  times ;  three  times  had  he 
been  tied  to  the  stake  to  suffer  the  most  horrible  death  known 
to  fiendish  ingenuity ;  and  the  intervals  had  been  times  of  the 
greatest  possible  mental  anguish. 

Arrived  in  Kentucky,  he  was  by  no  means  disposed  to  rest  up- 
on his  laurels,  and  to  live  upon  the  memory  of  what  he  had  suf- 
fered. Had  he  been  made  of  such  stuff,  he  would  not  have  had 
the  intercession  of  either  G-irty  or  Logan;  the  one  knew  by  ex- 
perience, the  other  by  instinct,  what  manner  of  man  he  was,  and 
it  was  the  manhood  within  him  that  they  would  have  rescued. 
From  his  arrival  in  Kentucky,  then,  until  1782,  he  was  constant- 
ly in  active  service,  as  guide,  scout  and  officer.  In  the  latter  year, 
a  piece  of  unexpected  good  news  reached  him.  Hearing,  for  the 
first  time  in  eleven  years,  from  his  old  home  in  Yirginia,  he  learn- 
ed that  Leitchman,  the  rival  of  whose  death  he  thought  himself 
guilty,  was  yet  alive,  having  soon  recovered  from  the  consequences 
of  the  fight.  Dropping  the  name  of  Butler,  and  assuming  his  own 
again,  he  returned  to  visit  his  parents,  and  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing them  to  remove  to  Kentucky.  Friendly  relations  were  also 
established  with  Leitchman  and  his  wife.  Simon  Kenton's  father 
died  on  the  journey,  but  the  others  reached  Maysville  (  or  the 
site  of  the  present  town  )  and  founded  there  a  settlement  on  the 
very  spot  where  he  had  pitched  his  first  camp  on  Kentucky  soil. 
Being  so  near  the  Indians,  however,  did  not  contribute  to  the 
peace  of  the  town,  and  incursion  and  raid  were  frequent.  Kenton 
never  let  such  inroads  pass  without  severe  retaliation,  and  in 
1793  he  drove  back  the  last  of  the  dusky  invaders  into  the  Ohio 
country.  In  the  succeeding  year  he  served  as  major  in  "  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne's  "  campaign,  but  was  not  present  at  the  victory 
which  closed  it. 

But  with  peace  to  the  borders  came  trouble  to  Kenton.  The 
same  difficulties  which  beset  Boone  in  regard  to  the  title  to  his 
land,  came  to  Kenton,  and  even  his  body  was  seized  for  debt. 
To  escape  the  persecutions  of  the  speculators,  he  moved  over  to 
the  Ohio  wilderness  in  1797,  or,  according  to  another  authority, 
16 


244  SIMON  KENTON. 

in  1802.  Living  there  quietly  enough,  the  restful  monotony  of 
the  farmer's  life  was  broken  in  the  year  1813,  when,  joining  the 
Kentucky  troops  under  Governor  Shelby,  he  was  present  at  the 
battle  of  the  Thames.  Returning  to  his  cabin,  he  continued  to  live 
near  Urbana  until  1820,  when  he  removed  to  a  spot  within  sight 
of  what  had  been  the  Indian  town  of  Wapatomika,  the  scene  of 
so  many  adventures  forty-two  years  before. 

But  misfortunes  continued  to  follow  him,  and  the  very  land 
which  he  tilled  had  to  be  entered  in  the  name  of  his  wife.  He 
had  owned  large  tracts  of  land  in  Kentucky,  but  they  had  become 
forfeited  to  the  state  for  taxes.  In  1824  he  undertook  to  go  to 
Frankfort,  to  ask  of  the  Kentucky  Legislature  a  release  of  the 
forfeiture.  Saddling  his  sorry  old  horse,  he  set  out  on  his  jour- 
ney, stopping  the  first  night  at  the  house  of  Major  Galloway,  in 
Xenia,  Ohio.  This  friend,  seeing  the  shabby  outfit  of  the  old 
pioneer,  gave  vent  to  his  honest  indignation  against  a  country 
that  could  leave  the  old  age  of  so  faithful  a  servant  to  penury. 

"  Don't  say  that,  Galloway,"  said  the  old  man,  drawing  his  tall 
figure  to'its  full  height,  his  gray  eyes  flashing  fire  as  they  did  but 
rarely ;  "  Don't  say  that,  or  I'll  leave  your  house  forever,  and 
never  call  you  my  friend  again." 

Arrived  at  Frankfort,  the  old  man  cut  but  a  shabby  figure  in  the 
now  busy  streets,  that  he  had  known  as  glades  in  the  forest  and 
buffalo-paths  through  the  cane-brakes.  His  tattered  garments, 
his  dilapidated  saddle  and  bridle,  and  his  old,  almost  broken 
down  horse,  excited  universal  derision  from  the  thoughtless  mul- 
titude. But  no  one  dreamed  that  this  was  Simon  Kenton.  Truly, 
a  prophet  is  not  without  honor,  save  in  his  own  country,  and 
among  his  own  people. 

But  a  rescuer  came,  in  the  person  of  General  Fletcher,  an  old 
companion-in-arms.  Hearing  the  story  of  the  pioneer,  this  friend 
in  need  took  him  to  a  store  and  fitted  him  out  with  a  good  suit  of 
clothes  and  a  hat,  and  then  escorted  him  to  the  State  Capitol. 
Here,  seated  in  the  Speaker's  chair,  the  most  prominent  men 
present  in  the  city  were  introduced  to  him,  and  he  was  made  to 
feel  that  the  place  given  to  him,  in  their  minds,  was  second  only 
to  Boone's.  "With  this,  he  was  more  than  content,  and  for  years 
afterward  did  he  speak  of  this  as  "the  proudest  day  in  his  life." 
General  Fletcher's  kindness  was  highly  appreciated,  as  he  prob- 
ably kept  that  suit  of  clothes  and  the  hat  until  his  death :  certain 
it  is  that  ten  years  after  this  they  were  still  in  active  service. 


SIMON   KENTON.  245 

His  mission  was  crowned  with  entire  success.  Not  only  were 
his  lands  gladly  released  by  the  Legislature,  but  the  exertions 
of  some  friends  secured  from  Congress  a  pension  of  $250,  thus  se- 
curing his  old  age  from  absolute  want.  [Returning  to  his  cabin 
on  the  banks  of  Mad  River,  he  spent  his  few  remaining  years  in 
calm  and  quiet,  passing  peacefully  away  at  the  ripe  age  of  eighty- 
one  in  the  year  1836.  He  was  buried  near  the  home  of  his  declin- 
ing years,  within  sight  of  the  spot  where,  nearly  half  a  century 
before,  the  Indians  had  bound  him  to  the  stake  ;  and  thus  passed 
away  the  second  pioneer  of  Kentucky — of  the  great  region,  in- 
deed, west  of  the  Alleghanies. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


OTHEE  HEEOES  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  BOONE. 

THE   WETZELS. 

OF  all  the  heroes  of  the  border,  who  lived  in  the  latter  years 
of  the  last  and  the  earlier  part  of  the  present  century,  there 
are  none  whose  names  are  dearer  to  those  who  love  tales  of  ad- 
venture, than  the  Wetzels.  "Western  Yirginia  was  a  wilderness 
when,  in  the  year  1772,  old  John  Wetzel,  a  rough  but  brave  and 
honest  German,  settled  there  with  his  family  of  five  sons  and 
two  daughters.  Nor  was  such  a  course  any  less  dangerous  than 
it  appears.  The  boys  were  but  children,  the  youngest,  Lewis, 
being  eight  or  nine  years  old,  and  could  not  afford  any  assistance 
in  defending  the  home,  if  it  should  be  attacked  by  the  treacher- 
ous denizens  of  the  woods.  But  in  the  rough  school  of  the  fron- 
tier, boys  quickly  learned  to  be  men.  and  John  Wetzel  probably 
soon  had  help  from  his  sons  in  his  occupation  of  hunting  and 
fishing,  and  in  locating  lands.  Their  home  was  at  some  distance 
from  the  fort,  a  position  of  no  small  danger  in  those  times,  when 
the  Indians  were  so  troublesome.  Many  adventures  are  recorded 
of  his  five  sons,  and  none  without  interest.  Handed  down  from 
father  to  son,  published  in  the  newspapers  of  later  date  without 
any  reference  to  other  parts  of  the  heroes'  lives,  isolated  in  the 
same  way  in  books  of  adventure,  it  is  only  with  great  difficulty 
that  they  can  be  arranged  in  order;  and  even  when  the  utmost 
care  is  used  in  sifting  the  early  adventures  from  those  of  a  later 
time,  the  position  of  some  must  be  guess-work.  The  youngest  of 
these  brothers,  Lewis,  is  the  one  around  whose  name  the  deeds 
of  daring  cluster  most  thickly.  Let  us,  then,  follow  the  course  of 
his  life,  turning  aside  occasionally  to  notice  Martin  or  Greorge, 
John  or  Jacob,  as  the  case  may  be. 

The  heat  of  the  contests  with  the  Indians  seemed  to  have  pass- 
ed away  in  1778,  and  no  fear  was  felt  of  sudden  incursions  from 
them.  Lewis  and  Jacob,  both  mere  boys,  were  playing  near  the 


THE  WETZELS.  247 

house,  when  Lewis,  turning  around  suddenly,  saw  the  barrel  of  a 
gun  protruding  from  behind  a  corn  crib.  Quick  as  thought  he 
jumped  backward,  but  too  late,  for  a  ball  wounded  him  severely 
in  the  chest.  Hardly  had  the  shot  been  fired,  when  two  dusky 
giants  leaped  from  their  shelter  upon  the  boys  and  carried  them 
off.  On  toward  their  village  across  the  Ohio  they  went,  passing 
that  river  on  the  second  day.  The  bullet  had  ploughed  its  way 
over  almost  the  whole  width  of  Lewis'  chest,  and  the  wound  was 
excessively  painful  ;  nor  did  the  rapid  pace  at  which  they  went 
tend  to  subdue  the  fever  in  his  hot  young  blood;  but  he  knew 
too  well  the  fate  of  an  Indian's  prisoner,  if  he  were  too  weak  to 
keep  pace  with  his  captor,  and  to  avoid  the  tomahawk,  bore 
his  pain  with  composure. 

The  Ohio  between  the  young  captives  and  their  homes,  the  In- 
dians relaxed  their  vigilance,  and  did  not  tie  the  boys  the  next 
night.  The  camp-fire  died  down,  the  night  wore  on,  and  the  two 
warriors  were  fast  asleep.  With  the  light,  quick  step  which  he 
had  learned  from  the  Indian  fighters  who  frequented  his  father's 
house,  and  indeed,  from  his  father  and  elder  brothers,  Lewis  rose 
and  went  to  Jacob's  side.  A  touch  awakened  the  sleeping  boy, 
and  signs  told  him  his  brother's  plan.  Noiselessly  they  stole 
away  and  pushed  into  the  woods.  They  had  gone  ahout  a  hun- 
dred yards,  and  their  feet  were  torn  and  bleeding  ;  many  weary 
miles  had  yet  to  be  traveled. 

"  We  cannot  go  barefooted,"  said  Lewis;  "  I  will  go  back  and 
get  moccasins." 

Back  to  the  camp  he*  stole  with  noiseless  tread,  and  soon  re- 
turned with  the  desired  protection.  Going  a  little  farther,  an- 
other want  was  discovered — they  were  unarmed.  Back  again  to 
the  camp  went  Lewis,  and  with  a  gun,  escaped  for  the  third  time 
in  safety.  At  their  utmost  speed  they  went,  but  not  fast  enough 
to  wholly  distance  the  Indians.  The  warriors  had  soon  discovered 
the  absence  of  the  captives,  and  knowing  well  the  point  at  which 
the  boys  would  aim,  followed  in  haste,  but  fortunately  not  noise- 
lessly. The  boys  heard  their  pursuers,  and  slipped  aside  from 
the  trail  that  they  had  been  following ;  the  Indians  passed  on- 
ward, but  soon  returned ;  the  Wetzels  had  eluded  them,  however, 
and  reached  the  Ohio  in  safety.  Lashing  two  logs  together,  they 
crossed  the  stream,  and  soon  reached  home. 

It  was  about  four  years  after  this,  when  Lewis  was  near  eigh- 
teen, that  he  had  what  is  perhaps  the  most  famous  fight  of  his 


248  THE  WETZELS. 

life.  An  expedition  into  the  Indian  country,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Col.  Crawford,  had  resulted  most  disastrously;  the  com- 
mander and  many  of  his  subordinates  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
put  to  the  torture ;  many  were  killed ;  a  few  escaped,  and  ar- 
rived, breathless  with  their  speed  and  terror,  at  the  nearest  set- 
tlements. One  of  these  fugitives  had  left  his  horse  at  Indian 
Spring,  and  pushed  on  to  Wheeling  on  foot.  Arrived  there,  he 
persuaded  Lewis  Wetzel  to  go  back  with  him  to  the  spring  for  his 
horse.  Wetzel  knew  the  danger,  and  spoke  of  it,  but  Mills  was 
determined  to  regain  possession  of  the  animal,  and  they  went 
together.  Beaching  the  neighborhood  of  the  spring,  they  spied 
the  horse  tied  to  a  tree  near  the  water.  This  was  an  unmistaka- 
ble sign,  and  Wetzel  warned  Mills  of  the  danger;  the  latter,  how- 
ever, was  deaf  to  all  his  companion  could  say,  and  started  toward 
the  spring  to  unfasten  the  animal.  A  sharp  crack — another — and 
he  fell  mortally  wounded. 

Wetzel  knew  that  his  only  safety  was  in  flight,  and  ran  at  his 
utmost  speed.  Pour  Indians  bounded  from  the  shelter  of  the 
trees  whence  they  had  fired  upon  Mills,  and  followed  him  with 
fleet  footsteps.  The  fugitive  would  soon  be  theirs,  and  in  glad 
anticipation  of  a  prisoner  to  be  tortured,  or  of  a  scalp  to  be 
added  to  the  string  of  ghastly  trophies,  they  aroused  the  echoes 
with  their  fiendish  yells.  Half  a  mile  they  ran,  and  one  of  the 
savages  was  so  close  upon  his  heels  that  Lewis,  dreading  the 
tomahawk,  turned  and  shot  him  dead.  Any  pause  would  be  fatal, 
for  even  if  he  reloaded  and  shot  another,  there  would  still  be 
two  more  pursuers  to  whom  such  a  delay  would  be  an  incalcula- 
ble advantage.  There  was  no  need  to  stop,  however,  for  he  had 
acquired  the  ability  to  load  his  gun  while  at  a  full  run,  and  this 
invaluable  art  was  now  called  into  use.  Another  half  mile,  and 
he  was  still  in  advance,  though  but  slightly;  as  he  turned  to 
fire,  the  foremost  Indian  caught  the  muzzle  of  his  gun,  and  the 
struggle  was,  for  a  moment,  of  doubtful  issue.  The  savage  had 
nearly  wrested  the  weapon  from  the  hands  of  his  antagonist, 
when,  gathering  all  his  strength  for  one  last  effort,  Lewis  re- 
gained possession  of  his  gun,  and,  with  its  muzzle  touching  the 
Indian's  neck,  fired,  killing  him  instantly. 

The  end  of  the  contest  had  not  come  a  moment  too  soon,  for 
the  others  had  nearly  overtaken  him.  Springing  forward,  he  elud- 
ed their  grasp,  until,  having  had  time  to  reload,  he  slackened  his 
pace  slightly,  in  order  to  put  an  enci  to  the  sport.  A  glance 


THE  WETZELS. 


249 


around,  however,  would  send  his  pursuers  behind  trees  to  shelter 
themselves  from  that  terrible  gun,  never  unloaded.  Another 
mile  was  passed  in  this  manner,  and  at  last  a  comparatively  open 
spot  was  reached.  Turning  here,  he  pointed  his  piece  at  the 
foremost  Indian ;  the  tree  did  not  shelter  him  altogether,  and  he 
fell,  dangerously  wounded.  The  fourth  Indian  retreated  in  hot 
haste,  to  tell  his  brethren  of  the  magic  power  he  had  escaped; 
and  doubtless  many  a  camp-fire  heard  the  story  of  the  long-haired 
youth  whose  gun  was  always  loaded. 

It  was  probably  about  this  time  that  Jacob  Wetzcl  and  Simon 


LEWIS    WETZEL  LOADING    WHILE    RUNNING "HIM  GUN  ALWAYS  LOADED." 

Kenton  decided  to  go  on  a  fall  hunt  together  into  the^  hilly  coun- 
try near  the  mouth  of  the  Kentucky  Eiver.  Arriving  at  the  se- 
lected ground,  they  found  unmistakable  "  Indian  sign."  They 
had  no  notion  of  retreating  without  finding  how  many  warriors 
there  were  near,  and  moving  cautiously  about,  and  following 
the  firing  which  they  heard  from  time  to  time,  they  discovered 
the  camp  about  evening  on  the  second  day.  Keeping  themselves 
concealed  until  night,  they  saw,  by  the  light  of  the  fire  that  was 
kindled,  five  well-armed  warriors.  In  defiance  of  that  law  which 
enjoins  a  night  attack  for 'an  inferior  force,  that  its  numbers  may 
be  magnified  by  fear  and  uncertainty,  they  decided  to  defer  the 


250  THE    WETZELS. 

fight  until  dawn  ;  perhaps  because  the  flickering  light  of  the  fire 
might  make  one  miss  his  aim.  Lying  behind  a  log  which  would 
serve  for  concealment  and  a  rampart,  they  awaited  the  coming 
of  light.  At  the  first  dawn  of  day,  their  guns  were  cocked,  the 
triggers  drawn,  and  two  Indians  fell.  Wctzel's  rifle  was  double- 
barreled,  and  the  third  man  was  killed  almost  as  soon  as  the  first. 
Having  now  to  contend  with  equal  numbers,  they  bounded  over 
the  log  and  were  in  the  camp  almost  before  the  remaining  Indians 
had  recovered  from  their  first  surprise.  Resistance  was  useless, 
for  they  thought  that  there  must  be  many  "  Long-knives"  near, 
and  the  terrified  Indians  sought  safety  in  flight.  The  fleet-footed 
hunters  followed  with  even  greater  speed,  and  soon  returned  to 
the  camp,  each  with  a  bloody  scalp  at  his  belt. 

Hitherto,  the  Wetzels  had  acted  in  self-defense,  or,  as  all  the 
settlers  did,  had  attacked  the  Indians  to  prevent  the  savages  from 
attacking  them ;  but  after  1787,  a  new  element,  the  desire  of  re- 
venge, was  added  to  their  motives.  Old  Wetzel  was  returning 
home  in  a  canoe  with  a  single  companion,  when  they  were  hailed 
by  a  party  of  Indians  on  shore  and  ordered  to  land ;  they  of 
course  refused,  and  were  rowing  for  their  lives  when  they  were 
fired  upon  and  Wetzel  shot  through  the  body — mortally  wounded. 

"  Lie  down  in  the  canoe,"  he  said  to  his  companion,  "and  I 
will  paddle  as  long  as  my  strength  lasts — maybe  then  we'll  be 
out  of  range." 

The  dying  man  rowed  on,  and  as  they  approached  the  settlement 
the  Indians  ceased  to  pursue  them;  his  heroism  saved  the  life  of 
his  friend,  and  made  his  sons  relentless  enemies  of  the  savages. 

It  was  probably  but  a  short  time  after  his  father's  death  that  Mar- 
tin Wetzel,  the  eldest  of  the  brothers,  was  surprised  and  captured 
by  the  Indians.  For  a  long  time  escape  was  impossible,  for  he 
was  carefully  and  closely  watched;  but  after  months  had  passed, 
and  he  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  to  remain  where  he  was,  he 
was  accorded  greater  liberty;  and  finally,  he  acquired  their 
confidence  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was  adopted  into  one  of  their 
families.  With  three  young  warriors  he  started  on  a  fall  hunt, 
and  the  party  encamped  near  the  head  of  the  Sandusky  Eiver. 
Here  Martin  was  very  careful  to  return  to  camp  first  in  the  eve- 
ning, prepare  wood  for  the  night  and  perform  all  the  other  offi- 
ces which  a  warrior  finds  so  distasteful ;  in  this  way  he  made 
still  greater  progress  in  their  confidence.  But  all  the  while  he 
was  planning  to  escape;  not  merely  that,  but  to  take  a  signal 


THE  WETZELS.  251 

vengeance  for  his  father's  de^th  and  his  own  long  captivity.  One 
afternoon,  as  he  was  hunting  at  some  distance  from  the  camp,  he 
came  upon  one  of  his  Indian  companions.  The  unsuspecting  sav- 
age parted  from  him  after  a  momentary  greeting,  and  a  few  sec- 
onds afterward  fell,  pierced  to  the  heart  by  a  hall  from  Wetzel's 
rifle.  Concealing  the  body  in  the  hollow  made  by  the  torn-up 
roots  of  a  tree,  and  covering  it  with  brush  and  dead  leaves,  he 
returned  to  camp. 

Wood  was  gathered  for  the  night,  and  supper  prepared.  "When 
the  two  Indians  returned,  Martin  innocently  inquired  about  the 
third;  neither  had  seen  him.  As  time  went  on,  and  still  the  mur- 
dered savage  did  not  come,  Wetzcl  expressed  great  concern  about 
his  absence. 

"  Maybe  he  find  new  hunting-ground  far  off,"  suggested  one, 
with  an  indifferent  air.  Later  on,  Martin  again  gave  vent  to  his 
anxiety  in  words,  and  another  explanation  was  proffered : 

"  Maybe  he  follow  turkey  too  far  to  come  back.  He  camp  in 
woods." 

The  Indians,  he  saw,  were  completely  off  their  guard,  and  it 
only  remained  for  him  to  decide  whether  he  would  attack  them 
separately  or  both  at  once.  Concluding  the  former  to  be  the 
better  plan,  when  they  set  out  in  the  morning  he  followed  one  at 
a  safe  distance.  Cautiously  pursuing  him  until  near  evening,  he 
pretended  to  meet  him  unexpectedly,  and  began  to  talk  about  the 
day's  hunt.  Chatting  gaily  for  a  while,  Martin's  lynx  eye  watch- 
ed the  Indian's  every  motion  ;  the  savage  turned  aside  for  a  mo- 
ment, when  crash !  went  the  white  man's  tomahawk,  cleaving  his 
skull.  A  hollow  near  by  concealed  the  body,  and  Wetzel  went 
back  to  camp. 

The  third  destined  victim  approached,  bending  under  the  load 
of  game  which  he  had  shot.  Eunning  forward  to  disencumber 
him  of  his  burden,  as  the  Indian  supposed,  his  relentless  toma- 
kawk  descended,  and  crushed  out  the  life  of  the  last  barrier  be- 
tween him  and  freedom.  There  was  now  no  danger  of  pursuit, 
and  Wetzel  leisurely  gathered  up  what  he  chose  to  take  with  him, 
not  forgetting  the  scalps  of  his  three  victims,  and  reached  homo 
in  safety  after  an  absence  of  nearly  a  year. 

An  adventure  of  Lewis  "VYetzel's,  which  some  authorities  place  in 
1786,  will  not  be  out  of  place  here.  By  frequent  incursions  upon 
the  settlements,  the  Indians  had  so  aroused  the  whites  that  a  re- 
taliatory expedition  was  organized,  Lewis  Wetzel  being  one  of 


252  THE  WETZELS. 

the  party.  Scouts  brought  in  the  news  that  the  marauders  were 
too  many  to  be  attacked  by  them,  and  a  council  of  war  being 
held  it  was  decided  to  return  home.  The  party  quickly  prepared 
to  retrace  their  steps,  and  many  had  already  departed,  when  the 
commander,  seeing  Wetzel  seated  carelessly  on  a  log,  with  his 
gun  lying  across  his  knees,  asked  him  if  he  were  not  going. 

"  No,"  answered  Lewis,  with  a  glance  of  contempt  at  his  flying 
comrades ;  "  I  came  out  to  hunt  Indians,  and  now  that  they  are 
found,  I  am  not  going  home  until  I  take  a  scalp,  unless  I  lose  my 
own." 

Persuasions  were  of  no  use.  Sullenly  he  sat  in  the  same  posi- 
tion on  the  log,  waiting  until  the  last  white  man  was  out  of  sight; 
then,  shouldering  his  rifle,  and  assuring  himself  that  scalping- 
knife  and  tomahawk  were  ready  for  use,  moved  oif  in  an  oppo- 
site direction,  hoping  to  meet  with  a  small  party  of  Indians.  Ev- 
ery precaution  was  taken  to  prevent  being  surprised,  and  every 
effort  made  to  find  any  Indians  that  might  be  lurking  in  his 
neighborhood,  but  night  fell,  and  he  had  not  seen  any.  A  fire 
was  necessary,  but  he  dared  not  let  its  light  be  seen;  so  he  con- 
structed a  small  coal-pit  out  of  bark  and  leaves,  covered  with 
loose  earth,  and  by  covering  his  fire  and  himself  with  his  blanket, 
succeeded  in  keeping  warm  without  endangering  himself  by 
showing  a  light. 

The  next  day  better  success  attended  him,  for  he  found,  to- 
wards evening,  a  tenantless  camp,  which  two  blankets  and  a  ket- 
tle showed  was  not  deserted.  The  owners  of  these  articles,  he 
supposed,  were  out  hunting.  Hiding  himself  in  the  thick  under- 
growth, he  patiently  awaited  their  return.  They  came  in  about 
sunset,  and  about  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  one  of  them,  shouldering 
his  rifle,  started  out  to  attend  to  a  deer  trap  that  he  had  set. 
Impatiently  Lewis  awaited  his  return,  but  dawn  drew  near,  and 
he  was  unfortunately  obliged  to  leave  the  camp  with  only  one 
scalp.  This  was  taken  without  difficulty,  as  he  crept  to  the  side 
of  the  sleeper  and  with  one  blow  sent  his  scalping  knife  through 
the  heart  of  the  savage.  Eeturning,  he  reached  the  settlement 
one  day  after  his  companions  had  arrived  there. 

On  one  occasion  he  determined  to  go  on  a  fall  hunt  into  the 
Indian  country.  Penetrating  as  far  as  the  Muskingum,  he  came 
upon  a  camp  containing  four  Indians.  Only  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion as  to  whether  he  should  attack  such  a  party,  and  he  deter- 
mined to  take  the  risk.  Creeping  cautiously  to  a  covert  near  the 


THE  WETZELS.  253 

camp,  whence  he  could  see  every  movement  of  his  enemies  as 
they  moved  about  the  fire,  he  waited  until  all  were  asleep.  Si- 
lently leaving  his  hiding  place,  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  un- 
conscious Indians.  Crash !  went  the  tomahawk,  and  the  skull  of 
one,  and  almost  in  the  same  instant,  of  a  second,  he  had  laid  open. 
The  noise  of  the  blows,  slight  though  it  was,  had  awakened  a 
third,  who  had  scarcely  struggled  to  his  feet  before  he  shared  the 
fate  of  his  comrades.  The  fourth  was  more  fortunate,  for  he  es- 
caped by  flight. 

"  Did  you  have  any  luck  ? "  inquired  a  friend,  on  his  return 
from  this  "  hunt." 

"Not  much,"  replied  Lewis,  "I  tree'd  four  Indians,  but  one 
got  away." 

In  1789,  a  fort  had  been  erected  where  Marietta  now  stands, 
and  its  commander,  G-en.  Harmar,  was  very  anxious  to  make  a 
treaty  with  the  Indians.  For  this  purpose  he  sent  messengers 
with  a  white  flag  to  the  nearest  Indian  tribes,  to  invite  them  to 
the  fort,  that  he  might  treat  with  them.  With  great  difficulty 
were  they  finally  persuaded  to  lay  aside  their  distrust  of  the 
"  Long-knives,"  and  accept  the  invitation. 

In  order  to  slightly  understand  what  followed,  we  must  remem- 
ber the  spirit  which  then  animated  the  whites  in  the  wars  against 
the  Indians.  Such  were  the  treachery 'and  the  cruelty  of  the  sav- 
ages that  the  white  men  felt  it  must  be  a  war  of  extermination. 
Of  course  the  soldiers  sent  here,  who  had  been  used  to  dealing 
with  a  different  foe,  did  not  appreciate  this  feeling  of  the  men 
born  in  forts  and  grown  up  through  a  series  of  sieges,  but  en- 
deavored to  deal  with  the  Indians  as  they  were  accustomed  to 
treat  more  open  and  honorable  enemies.  The  frontiersmen 
would  not  put  any  faith  in  an  Indian's  word,  and  not  believing 
that  the  savages  would  keep  treaties,  were  themselves  by  no 
no  means  backward  in  violating  such  engagements.  When, 
therefore,  Gen.  Harmar  succeeded  in  persuading  tho  Indians  to 
come  to  the  fort,  Lewis  Wetzel  recognized  it  as  an  excellent  op- 
portunity for  fresh  triumphs  over  his  enemies. 

With  a  companion  nearly  as  daring  as  himself,  he,  according 
to  the  plan  which  they  agreed  upon,  found  a  spot  which  would 
answer  for  their  purpose,  and  lying  here  in  ambush,  they  shot  at 
an  Indian  who  rode  by  at  full  speed.  He  did  not  fall,  and  they 
thought  that  the  shot  had  missed  him.  It  was  known  among 
their  neighbors  on  what  errand  Wetzel  and  his  companion  had 


254  THE  WETZELS. 

gone,  and  on  their  return  they  were  questioned  as  to  their  suc- 
cess. They  did  not  dream  that  the  Indian  had  been  seriously 
hurt,  but  he  was  mortally  wounded,  and,  riding  into  the  fort,  died 
that  night.  Humor  soon  informed  Gen.  llarmar  who  had  killed 
him,  and  he  despatched  a  party  of  men  to  take  Wetzel,  dead  or 
alive.  Such  was  the  anger  of  his  neighbors,  however,  that  they 
resolved  to  form  an  ambuscade  and  kill  the  soldiers  who  should 
attempt  to  take  Lewis.  Happily  the  commander  of  the  force  was 
persuaded  to  return  without  making  the  desperate  attempt,  and 
Lewis  considered  the  whole  thing  disposed  of  to  the  satisfaction 
of  all  concerned. 

Shortly  afterward,  however,  he  found  that  Gen.  llarmar  was  by 
no  means  of  the  same  opinion,  for  while  at  the  house  of  a  friend 
he  was  surprised,  captured  and  taken  to  the  fort,  where  he  was 
loaded  with  irons.  To  the  liberty-loving  woodsman,  this  confine- 
ment was  as  intolerable  as  the  disgrace  of  being  treated  like  a 
criminal.  Chafing  under  the  restraint,  he  sent  for  Gen.  Harmar, 
who  speedily  came. 

"Don't  hang  me  up  like  a  dog,"  he  said;  "if  you  don't  want 
to  let  me  go,  put  me  in  the  middle  of  a  party  of  Indians  armed 
with  scalping  knives  and  tomahawks ;  give  me  a  tomahawk  and 
let  me  fight  it  out  with  them." 

Gen.  Harmar,  with  lofty  dignity,  replied  that  he  must  act  in 
conformity  with  the  law  of  which  he  was  an  officer,  and  which 
did  not  allow  him  to  make  such  a  compromise,  and  the  poor  pris- 
oned woodsman  was  once  more  left  to  himself.  £Tot  many  days 
had  passed  before  he  again  sent  for  theKJommander. 

"  I've  never  been  used  to  keeping  so  close  in  the  house,  and  I 
cannot  live  much  longer  shut  up  here  without  exercise,"  he  com- 
plained. 

Accordingly,  the  guard  was  ordered  to  knock  the  fetters  off, 
leaving  only  the  handcuffs,  and  to  permit  him  to  walk  about  on 
the  point  at  the  mouth  of  the  Muskingum.  Loosed  from  the  fet- 
ters, that  had  weighed  on  his  heart  no  less  heavily  than  on  his 
limbs,  and  breathing  the  free  air  of  heaven  once  more,  he  frol- 
icked about  like  a  young  deer  released  from  a  trap.  Starting 
suddenly  away  from  them,  as  if  to  escape,  he  would  run  a  few 
yards  and  then  return  to  the  guards  that  accompanied  him  out- 
side the  fort.  This  was  repeated  several  times,  the  distance  on 
each  run  being  a  little  greater,  until,  his  guards  having  become 
used  to  it,  he  ran  nearly  a  hundred  yards  before  they  discovered 


WETZELS.  255 

that  he  was  really  attempting  to  escape.  They  fired,  but  missed 
their  aim,  and  he  soon  outran  those  pursuing  him. 

He  knew  the  country  well,  and  could  thus  readily  elude  the 
less  skilled  woodsmen.  Making  for  a  dense  thicket  two  or  three 
miles  from  the  fort,  he  squeezed  under  a  log,  and  lay  there  cov- 
ered by  the  thick  brush,  safe  from  discovery,  even  when  two 
keen-eyed  Indians  stood  upon  the  log  under  which  he  lay.  Gradu- 
ally the  footsteps  of  his  pursuers  died  away,  their  cries  were  lost 
in  the  distance,  and  as  night  came  on,  he  found  himself  alone  in 
the  thicket.  But  on  this  side  of  the  Ohio,  he  had  no  friend  on 
whom  he  could  rely,  and,  handcuffed  as  he  was,  he  could  not 
swim  across  it.  Creeping  cautiously  down  to  the  river,  he  saw, 
at  the  opposite  side,  an  acquaintance  in  a  canoe,  fishing.  G-ently 
splashing  in  the  water,  he  succeeded  in  gaining  this  man's  atten- 
tion, and  was  by  him  ferried  ever  the  river.  Once  on  the  Vir- 
ginia side,  he  was  in  the  midst  of  devoted  admirers  and  friends, 
who  would  die  for  him  before  they  would  allow  him  to  be  retaken. 

G-en.  Harmar,  however,  was  not  so  easily  discouraged,  but  years 
afterward  offered  a  reward  for  Lewis  Wetzel,  dead  or  alive. 
Zeal  for  the  execution  of  the  law,  however,  was  confined  to  his 
breast,  for  no  one  claimed  the  reward,  although  many  could 
have  captured  him. 

Not  long  after  his  return  he  was  invited  to  accompany  a  rela- 
tive to  his  home  on  Dunkard  Creek.  Accepting  the  invitation, 
they  reached  their  destination  only  to  find  the  house  a  heap  of 
smoking  ruins.  Wetzel  declared  the  trail  to  indicate  that  the 
marauders  were  three  Indians  and  a  white  man,  and  that  they  had 
carried  off  one  captive.  This  was  the  betrothed  of  the  host,  and 
he  insisted  upon  following  them  immediately.  Wetzel,  nothing 
loath,  assented,  and  they  pushed  on,  hoping  to  overtake  the  ma- 
rauders before  they  reached  the  Ohio.  Despite  the  pains  which 
had  been  taken  to  hide  the  trail  and  deceive  the  pursuers,  Wet- 
zel, guessing  what  course  they  had  taken,  took  a  bee-line  for  the 
point  at  which  he  thought  they  would  aim.  Night  came  on,  but 
still  they  continued  their  journey,  guided  by  the  light  of  the 
moon,  until  midnight;  then  this  help  failed  them,  and  they  rested 
for  the  few  remaining  hours  of  the  night.  At  dawn  they  were 
again  upon  their  way,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  saw,  among  other 
fresh  footsteps  in  the  sand,  the  print  of  a  little  shoe,  evidently  of 
a  white  woman.  Just  at  dark,  they  discovered  the  encampment 
upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  Swimming  the  stream,  they 


256  THE  POES. 

made  sure  of  the  position  of  the  captive,  and  several  other  points 
about  the  camp ;  but  although  the  frantic  lover  urged  an  immedi- 
ate attack,  Wetzel  insisted  upon  postponing  it  until  morning. 
.  At  dawn  the  savages  were  preparing  to  continue  their  journey, 
when  two  rifles  were  fired  from  the  thicket,  at  the  same  instant, 
with  fatal  effect;  one  shot  killing  an  Indian,  one  the  renegade 
white  man.  The  lover  sprang  forward  into  the  camp  as  soon  as 
he  had  fired,  to  release  the  captive,  and  Wetzel  pursued  the  two 
Indians  into  the  woods.  Firing  his  rifle  at  random,  they  rushed 
toward  him  before  he  could  reload,  as  they  thought,  but  the  gun 
was  already  prepared  for  execution,  and  its  contents  sent  into 
the  body  of  the  nearest  pursuer.  Loading  as  he  ran,  he  again 
wheeled  and  fired,  and  the  last  of  the  party  lay  dead  before  him. 
Lewis  Wetzel  has  been  called  the  Boone  of  West  Virginia,  but 
the  title  can  hardly  be  allowed.  Boone  is  the  type  of  the  fron- 
tiersman whose  name  is  known  to  history  as  the  father  of  a  set- 
tlement; Lewis  Wetzel  is  famous  in  tradition  as  a  wild  borderer. 
Both  classes  of  characters  were  necessary  to  the  establishment 
and  preservation  of  settlements ;  the  wilder,  more  unsettled  In- 
dian-fighter roaming  the  country,  and  giving  information  of  dan- 
ger to  the  men  in  the  forts.  It  is  true  that  Boone  did  not  have 
much  of  this  assistance ;  Boonesborough  was  too  far  in  the  van 
of  the  army  of  pioneers.  Still  the  difference  in  the  stability  of 
character  remains  ;  but  however  unknown  to  graver  history  may 
be  the  names  of  the  Wetzels,  the  traditions  respecting  them  will 
long  linger  around  the  places  that  they  have  defended  from  the 
incursions  of  the  Indians. 

THE   POES. 

Whether  it  is  due  to  the  character  of  the  settlers,  whether  we 
possess  larger  stores  of  information  regarding  them,  or  whether 
the  Indians  made  a  more  determined  stand  there  than  any- 
where else,  the  State  of  Kentucky  and  its  near  neighbors  seem  to 
possess  more  traditions  of  border  adventure  than  any  others. 
Perhaps  that  sectional  pride  which  in  New  England  has  pre- 
served, and  it  is  hinted,  multiplied  the  relics  of  the  Mayflower, 
and  which  in  Virginia  delights  in  the  magic  letters  "  F.  F.  Y.," 
here  preserves  the  stories  of  adventure — we  cannot  tell.  The  fact 
remains,  be  the  explanation  what  it  may. 

Among  the  heroes  of  the  border  whose  names  are  associated 
with  the  same  time  and  place  that  knew  the  Wetzels,  were  two 


257 

brothers,  Adam  and  Andrew  Poe.  The  adventure  of  the  latter 
with  two  Indians  is  a  story  often  told,  but  which  will  bear  one 
more  repetition.  In  the  spring  of  1781,  the  Indians  had  made 
several  raids  upon  the  white  settlements  in  what  is  now  Wash- 
ington County,. Pennsylvania,  but  was  then  a  part  of  Virginia. 
This  was  the  home  of  both  the  Poes,  and  of  many  a  brave  bor- 
derer besides,  and  none  were  inclined  to  tolerate  these  inroads. 
A  woman  and  a  child  had  been  murdered,  an  old  man  carried 
off  as  a  prisoner,  and  excited  by  such  outrages,  it  was  not  many 
hours  before  the  whole  settlement  was  ready  to  pursue  the  sav- 
ages. Twelve  men  on  horseback  set  out  to  follow  the  trail,  but 
were  soon  compelled  to  dismount.  Andy's  experienced  eye  de- 
tected that  the  Indians  were  not  far  off,  and  begged  his  compan- 
ions to  be  quiet,  so  that  the  savages  would  not  be  provoked  into 
killing  their  prisoner.  His  request  was  disregarded,  and  he  left 
the  company,  going  directly  to  the  bank  of  the  river.  He  had 
not  gone  far  before  he  saw  the  Indian  canoes  at  the  water's  edge, 
and  not  seeing  any  Indians,  went  cautiously  down  the  bank,  with 
his  rifle  cocked.  When  about  half-way  down,  he  saw  two  "Wyan- 
dots,  standing  below  within  a  few  feet,  looking  in  the  direction 
of  the  party  that  he  had  left.  One  was  gigantic  in  size;  far  larger 
than  Poe,  who  was  remarkable  for  his  stature  and  strength;  the 
other  was  small;  both  were  fully  armed,  and  had  their  guns 
cocked.  Eetreat  was  impossible,  and,  hastily  deciding  that  he 
would  kill  the  big  Indian  and  take  the  little  one  a  prisoner,  Poe 
took  aim.  His  gun  missed  fire.  Thus  betrayed  to  the  savages, 
he  concealed  his  exact  position  by  hiding  in  the  thick  bushes  for 
a  moment,  until  the  larger  party  overtook  five  other  Indians, 
who,  with  the  prisoner,  were  farther  down  the  stream.  Creeping 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  bank,  he  again  pointed  his  rifle  at  the  big 
Indian,  but  for  a  second  time  it  failed  him.  Dropping  the  rifle, 
he  sprang  upon  them.  They  had  wheeled  around  when  his  gun 
snapped,  but  had  not  had  time  even  to  raise  their  rifles  before 
the  struggle  commenced.  Catching  each  around  the  neck,  and 
throwing  his  weight  suddenly  upon  the  larger  of  the  two,  Big- 
foot,  he  drew  both  to  the  ground  with  him. 

As  they  fell,  in  their  surprise  both  Indians  dropped  their  guns, 
and  their  other  arms,  fortunately  for  Poe,  were  all  on  the  canoes. 
Andrew  had  only  his  scalping-knife,  but  it  was  hard  to  reach  in 
his  present  position.  Bigfoot  lay  flat  on  his  back  upon  the  ground ; 
Poe  had  fallen  with  his  left  side  upon  him ;  while  slightly  be- 


THE   POES.  259 

hind  the  white  man,  to  his  right,  was  the  little  Indian ;  each  of 
the  three  struggling  for  dear  life.  Poe  made  several  efforts  to 
get  at  his  knife,  in  order  to  despatch  the  warrior  under  him, 
but  Bigfoot,  catching  his  hand,  held  it  in  an  iron  grasp,  talking 
all  the  while,  in  his  own  language,  to  his  comrade.  Suddenly 
his  grasp  was  relaxed,  and  the  knife,  coming  out  of  the  scab- 
hard  with  unexpected  ease,  flew  out  of  Andrew's  hand.  At  the 
same  time,  the  little  Indian  jerked  his  head  from  under  his  cap- 
tor's arm,  and  sprang  to  the  canoes.  Bigfoot,  thus  left  alone 
with  his  enemy,  threw  his  long  arms  about  him  and  held  him 
tight  until  the  return  of  the  little  Indian  with  a  tomahawk.  The 
savage  took  aim,  but  just  as  the  tomahawk  was  about  to  leave  his 
hand,  a  well  directed  kick  from  Poe  upon  his  wrist  sent  the  mis- 
sile flying  into  the  river.  A  furious  yell  expressed  Bigfoot' s  an- 
ger at  the  little  Indian,  who  had  thus  allowed  himself  to  be  de- 
feated, and  who  now  returned  to  the  canoes  for  another  weapon. 
The  second  effort  bade  fair  to  be  more  successful.  Approach- 
ing the  prostrate,  struggling  men,  the  little  Indian  engaged  in  a 
series  of  feints,  intended  to  divert  Poe's  attention  from  his  real 
object.  Poe  was  on  the  alert,  however,  and  saw  through  his 
maneuvers.  At  last  the  real  blow  was  struck,  aimed  at  his  head ; 
but  throwing  up  his  arm,  he  received  the  blow  upon  his  right 
wrist;  the  tomahawk,  glancing  off,  flew  over  his  head.  The  little 
Indian  regained  his  weapon,  and  was  advancing  the  third  time  to 
the  attack,  when  Poe,  wrenching  himself  from  Bigfoot's  grasp  by 
a  powerful  effort,  caught  hold  of  a  gun  and  shot  him.  The  more 
powerful  antagonist  now  remained  to  be  disposed  of,  nor  was  this 
an  easy  task  to  the  wounded  white  man.  Bigfoot  had  regained 
his  feet  as  soon  as  Poe,  and  the  little  Indian's  body  had  not  fallen 
before  he  caught  Andrew  by  a  shoulder  and  a  leg  to  throw  him 
into  the  river.  Poe  was  on  his  guard  against  such  an  attempt, 
and  grasped  the  Indian's  neck  so  tightly,  just  as  he  was  in  the 
act  of  throwing,  that  both  went  together  into  the  water.  Here, 
each  had  the  same  object  in  view — to  drown  the  other ;  and  the 
struggle  was  long  and  fierce.  Carried  out  farther  and  farther 
into  the  stream,  now  one,  now  the  other  had  been  uppermost, 
holding  his  antagonist  under  the  water,  until  they  were  full  thirty 
yards  from  the  shore.  At  last  Poe  seized  the  tuft  of  hair  on  the 
crown  of  the  Indian's  head,  and  kept  him  under  water  until  he 
thought  he  was  dead.  Exhausted  with  the  loss  of  blood  from 
his  wound,  and  with  the  long  struggle,  he  released  his  hold  and 
17 


THE   POSS. 

swam  with  his  left  arm  toward  shore.  But  Bigfoot  had  been 
"  playing  possum,"  and  now,  escaped  from  Andrew's  grasp,  made 
for  dry  land.  It  was  a  race  to  see  which  should  first  gain  posses- 
tsion  of  the  one  loaded  rifle  which  lay  upon  the  bank.  Poe,  dis- 
abled by  his  wound,  could  swim  but  slowly,  and  Bigfoot  gained 
the  coveted  prize.  But  the  gun  was  uncocked,  and  in  attempt- 
ing to  cock  it  in  haste,  he  injured  the  lock.  The  other  was  un- 
loaded, as  its  contents  had  killed  the  little  Indian. 

Adam  Poe,  having  heard  the  discharge  of  the  rifle  which  An- 
drew had  fired,  now  came  to  the  assistance  of  his  brother ;  his  gun, 
however,  was  unloaded,  as  he  had  fired  at  one  of  the  other  party 
of  Indians.  The  victory  now  belonged  to  the  one  who  could  first 
load.  Luckily  for  the  brothers,  the  Indian  drew  the  ramrod  too 
hastily  from  the  thimbles  of  the  stock,  and  it  fell  a  short  distance 
from  him.  He  quickly  regained  it,  but  too  late ;  the  momentary 
delay  was  fatal  to  him,  in  giving  his  enemy  the  slight  advantage 
he  desired.  Adam  took  deadly  aim  and  shot  him  dead. 

Immediately  Adam  jumped  into  the  river  to  help  his  brother, 
who  was  almost  fainting,  to  shore.  But  if  the  flesh  was  weak, 
the  spirit  was  still  strong. 

.  "Let  me  alone,"  cried  Andrew;  "I'll  get  out.     Get  his  scalp 
before  he  rolls  into  the  river." 

But  his  brother's  life  was  an  object  of  more  interest  to  Adam 
than  any  scalp  he  could  take,  and  despite  Andrew's  protests,  the 
dying  Indian,  jealous  of  his  honor  even  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
was  allowed  to  reach  the  river  and  get  into  the  current.  His 
body  was  carried  oif,  and  his  scalp,  that  pride  and  ornament  of 
the  warrior,  never  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 

While  this  desperate  contest  was  going  on,  the  main  body  of 
tho  whites  had  overtaken  the  Indian  party,  recaptured  the  pris- 
oner, and  with  the  loss  of  one  of  their  number,  slain  all  but  one 
of  their  enemies.  Attracted  by  the  sounds  of  the  Poes'  fight, 
they  came  to  the  tardy  relief  of  the  brothers;  but,  mistaking 
Andrew,  who  was  still  in  the  water,  for  a  wounded  Indian,  one 
of  them  fired  and  hurt  him  severely  in  the  shoulder.  He  re- 
covered from  his  injuries,  however,  and  lived  for  many  years  ; 
telling  over  and  over,  in  his  old  age,  the  story  of  this  desperate 
encounter. 

Bigfoot  and  his  four  brothers,  all  killed  in  this  fight,  were  war- 
riors of  high  repute  among  the  Wyandots,  and  their  death  was  a 
severe  loss  to  the  tribe.  Despite  their  well  known  lenity  to  the 


MA  JOE  SAM  MCCULLOCH.  261 

whites,  they  were  by  no  means  disposed  to  forgive  this  injury. 
A  warrior  was  despatched  to  avenge  his  kinsmen,  hut  returned 
without  executing  his  purpose. 

MAJOR  SAM  MCCULLOCH. 

But  these  were  not  the  only  heroes  of  the  time,  nor  the  only 
exploits.  Selecting  from  a  mass  of  interesting  traditions  those 
most  striking,  we  find  the  scene  is  laid  at  a  rude  frontier  fort 
near  Wheeling.  The  capital  of  West  Virginia  was  then  a  little 
village,  containing  not  more  than  twenty-five  rude  log  huts,  and 
Fort  Henry,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  was  its  defense.  In  its 
early  days  it  was  invested  by  a  force  of  Indians,  four  hundred 
strong.  The  terrified  settlers  fled  to  the  fort,  there  to  defend 
themselves  and  their  families.  Of  the  forty-two  men,  twenty -six 
had  fallen  before  the  siege  was  well  begun,  and  help  was  neces- 
sary. Messengers  had  safely  reached  the  neighboring  settlements, 
and  one  little  party  of  fifteen  fought  its  way  into  the  fort  with- 
out the  loss  of  a  man.  But  now  they  descry  a  throng  of  horse- 
men approaching,  numbering  more  than  their  whole  force — it  is 
Major  McCulloch,  the  famous  ranger,  with  forty  followers.  The 
Indians  are  thick  around  the  band,  but  before  them  are  the  gates 
of  the  fort,  opened  to  receive  them,  and  they  fight  desperately. 
More  than  one  Indian  warrior  bites  the  dust  before  them,  and  at 
last  they  dash  triumphantly  into  the  fort. 

But  one,  the  commander  himself,  has  been  cut  off;  a  hundred 
Indians  are  between  McCulloch  and  the  station  ;  a  host  who  know 
so  well  the  injuries  which  his  daring  courage  has  before  inflicted 
upon  their  race,  that  they  are  determined  to  take  him  alive,  and 
inflict  the  most  exquisite  tortures  they  can  devise  upon  their  en- 
emy. He  finds  it  useless  to  try  to  gain  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and 
knowing  that  his  life  depends  upon  the  speed  of  his  horse,  rides 
away,  pursued  in  hot  haste.  Before  him,  beside  him,  behind  him, 
throng  an  innumerable  host  of  red-skins ;  on  one  side  only  there 
are  none — it  is  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  the  river.  A  moment  he  halts ;  the  Indians  have  not  fired 
a  shot,  and  he  knows,  only  too  well,  what  that  means  ;  choosing 
to  be  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocky  banks  of  Wheeling  Creek, 
rather  than  to  undergo  the  tortures  which  await  him,  he  drives 
his  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  the  noble  animal,  as  though  appre- 
ciating the  alternative,  leaps  into  the  yawning  gulf.  Down,  down, 
one-half  the  distance,  before  the  echoes  of  the  triumphant  shouts 


MAJOR   SAM   MCCULLOCH. 

of  the  Indians  died  away ;  and  the  horse's  hoofs  at  last  strike  the 
smooth  face  of  the  rock,  and  sliding  and  scrambling,  steed  and 
rider  roll  into  the  stream  below.  Only  his  own  shout  of  triumph 
now  breaks  the  stillness  as  he  recovers  himself  and  reaches  the 
farther  shore,  for  the  savages  stand  awe-struck  at  the  heroic  dar- 


MCCULLOCH'S  LEAP. 

ing  of  the  man  who  has  escaped  them.  Eeturning  to  the  siege, 
they  found  that  Major  McCulloch  was  not  the  only  brave  white 
man  alive,  for  the  fort  was  so  obstinately  defended  that  they  were 
soon  forced  to  retreat  from  a  bootless  attack. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  LEWIS  AND  CLAEKE  EXPEDITION. 

AS  we  glance  hurriedly  over  the  last  census  returns,  to  ascer- 
tain the  rank  of  a  favorite  city,  or  some  other  point  of  equal 
importance,  we  must  often  pause  to  think  that  it  was  not  so  form- 
erly ;  such  a  state  was  placed  above  such  another  in  the  list,  such 
a  city  was  but  a  small  town,  ten  years  ago.  But  go  back  for 
eighty  years,  and  note  the  differences.  Of  the  ten  cities  highest 
on  the  last  list  only  one-half  figured  prominently  in  the  returns 
of  1800.  Cincinnati,  a  little  town  on  the  Ohio,  had  been  settled 
but  twelve  years  before,  and  boasted  less  than  eight  hundred  in- 
habitants. True,  beyond  the  Mississippi  were  larger  towns,  but 
they  were  not  in  the  limits  of  the  United  States;  that  whole  coun- 
try then  belonged  to  France.  In  the  Southwest,  the  most  import- 
ant was  New  Orleans,  which  contained  eight  thousand  people,  or 
more  than  twice  as  many  as  Brooklyn  then.  Cahokia,  a  town  on 
the  east  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  was  the  most  considerable  Am- 
erican settlement  in  the  region  above.  Seven  miles  above  it  was  a 
French  trading  post  and  village,  which  boasted  not  a  single  house 
built  of  any  other  material  than  logs,  and  from  which,  for  years 
afterward,  the  inhabitants  used  to  come,  to  buy  goods,  to  the 
town  whose  site  is  now  in  the  midst  of  the  Mississippi.  This  un- 
important village,  the  sixth  city  on  our  latest  list,  has  since  at- 
tained considerable  notoriety,  her  hopeful  citizens  styling  her, 
affectionately,  the  "  Future  Great  City  of  the  World,"  or  with  true 
American  brevity,  the  "  Future  Great."  Three  years  later,  the 
unsettled  wilderness  to  the  south  of  Lake  Michigan  saw  the  erec- 
tion of  a  rude  stockade  fort,  named  Dearborn,  where  in  1831  the 
village  of  Chicago  was  built.  Away  on  the  Pacific  coast,  the 
Spanish  missionaries  had  already  been  at  work,  and  the  harbor 
entered  by  the  Golden  Gate  was  the  approach  to  one  of  their 
posts,  where,  in  1835,  a  village  of  adobe  huts  was  begun;  called, 
from  the  mission,  San  Francisco. 


264  LEWIS   AND   CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 

Such,  a't  the  beginning  of  the  century,  were  the  great  cities  of 
the  West,  and  we  may  imagine  the  state  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try when  such  was  the  character  of  the  centers  of  population. 
Not  yet  had  the  idea  of  an  overland  passage  to  the  Pacific  been 
abandoned,  though  the  dangers  of  the  way  and  the  length  of  the 
journey  were  better  appreciated  than  they  had  been  nearly  two 
hundred  years  before,  when  the  French  settlers  in  Canada  ex- 
pected to  find  the  western  ocean  a  few  days'  easy  journey  from 
Lake  Superior.  Even  before  the  Revolution  the  project  had  been 
tried  by  Jonathan  Carver,  but  want  of  means  obliged  him  to 
abandon  it.  The  war  occupied  the  attention  of  all,  exclusively, 
and  there  was  no  time  or  money  for  such  expeditions.  In  the 
meantime,  however,  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  had  sent  its  trad- 
ers into  the  western  wilderness,  and  after  peace  was  concluded, 
John  Jacob  Astor  transacted  much  business  with  them. 

It  was  not  until  after  the  purchase  of  Louisiana  by  the  United 
States  in  1803  that  the  government  first  took  an  interest  in  such 
explorations.  This  purchase  was  made  by  the  influence  of  Pres- 
ident Jefferson,  whose  keen  eye  saw  the  advantages  which  would 
attend  such  extension  of  territory.  Highly  delighted  at  his  suc- 
cess, he  recommended  to  Congress,  in  a  confidential  message,  that 
a  party  should  be  despatched  to  trace  the  Missouri  to  its  source, 
cross  the  Eocky  Mountains,  and  proceed  to  the  Pacific.  The  plan 
was  approved  by  Congress,  Captain  Meriwether  Lewis,  the  Pres- 
ident's private  secretary,  being  appointed  to  lead  the  expedition. 
"William  Clarke,  the  brother  of  Gen.  G-eorge  Rogers  Clarke,  was 
afterward  associated  with  him,  and  the  success  with  which  they 
met  was  largely  due  to  his  knowledge  of  the  habits  and  character 
of  the  Indians. 

The  preparations  for  the  expedition  were  completed  and  the 
party  selected  before  the  close  of  1803.  Nine  young  men  from 
Kentucky,  fourteen  United  States  soldiers,  two  French  watermen 
to  serve  as  interpreter  and  hunter,  and  a  black  servant  of  Capt. 
Clarke,  composed  the  party,  enlisted  to  serve  as  privates  during 
the  expedition.  Several  others  were  to  accompany  them  a  part 
of  the  way.  It  was  the  twenty-first  of  May,  1804,  however,  when 
they  left  St.  Charles,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  for  the  un- 
trodden western  wilds.  On  the  first  day  of  June  they  were  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Osage,  where  they  listened  to  the  story  that  their 
French  guides  gravely  told  them  of  the  origin  of  the  tribe  from 
whom  the  river  was  named.  This  was  the  story : 


LEWIS    AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION.  265 

A  snail  had  passed  its  whole  existence  in  quiet  on  the  margin 
of  this  stream,  when  a  high  flood  swept  it  down  to  the  Missouri, 
and  left  it  exposed  upon  the  bank.  Here  the  heat  of  the  sun  soon 
ripened  the  snail  into  a  man,  but  the  change  in  his  nature  had 
not  caused  him  to  forget  his  native  river,  and  thither  he  bent 
his  steps.  Soon  overtaken  by  hunger  and  fatigue,  he  was  nearly 
fainting  with  exhaustion,  when  the  Great  Spirit,  appearing  to 
him,  gave  him  a  bow  and  arrow  and  showed  him  how  to  kill  and 
cook  deer,  and  cover  himself  with  its  skin.  As  he  approached 
the  river,  he  met  a  beaver. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  beaver,  haughtily,  "  and  why  do 
you  come  to  disturb  me  in  my  possessions  ?" 

The  Osage  (for  such  was  the  snail-man)  haughtily  answered 
that  the  river  was  his  own,  for  he  had  once  lived  on  its  borders. 


THE  OSAGE'S  FATHER-IN-LAW. 

The  dispute  threatened  to  grow  into  a  fight.  The  daughter  of  the 
beaver,  however,  reconciled  them,  and  was  finally  married  to 
the  Osage  ;  the  whole  tribe  being  their  descendants. 

Many  friendly  visits  were  received  from  parties  of  Indians  from 
the  various  tribes  along  the  banks,  and  they  distributed  laced 
coats,  hats,  medals  and  trinkets  among  them,  carefully  suiting 
the  gift  to  the  rank  of  their  recipient.  Passing  the  quarry  where 
.the  red  stone  used  for  calumets  is  found,  a  place  sacred  to  peace, 
where  even  warring  tribes  meet  without  hostile  demonstrations, 
they  reached,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  August,  a  bluff,  surrounded 
,by  a  beautiful  plain.  Fine  prairies  were  on  either  side  of  the 
river,  and  timber  was  more  plentiful.  Here  they  encamped,  de- 
;siring  to  repair  a  boat  which  had  been  injured,  and  do  some 
•other  necessary  work.  Here  they  were  visited  by  a  number  of 
ISioux  chiefs  and  warriors  on  the  thirtieth,  to  whom  Capt.  Lewis 
delivered  a  speech,  with  the  usual  advice  regarding  their  future 
conduct.  The  council  held  the  next  day  is  remarkable  for  the 


266  LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 

similarity  of  the  speeches,  each  speaker  laying  great  stress  upon 
his  love  for  the  white  sons  of  his  great 'father,  and  his  poverty, 
which  could  be  relieved  by  gifts  from  them.  This  place  they 
called  Council  Bluffs,  because  it  was  the  scene  of  the  first  formal 
council  held  with  the  Indians. 

As  yet  they  had  been  received  with  great  professions  of  friend- 
ship by  the  Indians,  who,  although  generally  tall,  well  formed 
and  active,  excelling  in  personal  beauty  and  dignity  the  tribes 
farther  east,  were  poorly  armed,  generally  with  bows  and  ar- 
rows. Their  first  alarm  came  from  another  source. 

The  Missouri  is  a  peculiarly  changing  river,  washing  away  one 
shore  and  adding  to  the  other  continually.  In  a  few  years  whole 
farms,  of  many  acres  each,  have  been  thus  carried  away  from 
their  owners  by  the  treacherous  stream.  Such  was  the  danger 
which  now  beset  them.  About  midnight  on  the  twentieth  of 
September  the  sleepers  were  startled  by  the  cry  that  the  sand- 
bar was  sinking.  Hastily  embarking,  they  made  for  the  other 
shore,  reaching  it  barely  in  time  to  see  the  bank  which  they  had 
just  left  fall  into  the  water. 

At  an  island  a  few  miles  above  this  point  they  were  joined  by 
one  of  their  hunters,  whose  horse  had  been  stolen  by  the  Indians. 
Leaving  the  island,  they  soon  overtook  five  Indians  on  the  shore ; 
having  anchored,  they  spoke  to  them  from  the  boat : 

"  We  are  friends,  and  wish  to  remain  such,  but  we  are  not  afraid, 
of  any  Indians.  Some  of  your  young  men  have  stolen  the  horse 
which  your  great  father  in  Washington  sent  for  your  great  chief, 
and  we  cannot  treat  with  you  until  it  is  brought  ba<?k  to  us/' 

The  Indians  replied  that  they  had  not  seen  the  horse,  but  that 
if  it  had  been  taken,  it  should  be  given  up  ;  and  continued  along 
the  shore,  following  the  boats  until  they  dropped  anchor  for  the 
night.  The  next  day  they  were  visited  by  a  party  of  fifty  or  six- 
ty chiefs  and  warriors,  to  whom  they  made  the  usual  speeches 
and  gave  the  usual  presents.  'Inviting  the  chiefs  on  board  the 
boat  (for  the  reception  had  taken  place  on  land),  they  showed 
them  an  air-gun,  the  boat  itself,  and  all  that  they  thought  would 
furnish  amusement  to  the  visitors.  In  this  purpose  they  suc- 
ceeded only  too  well,  for  they  found  it  difficult  to  get  rid  of  them. 
A  quarter-glass  of  whiskey  given  to  each  one  did  not  mend  mat- 
ters any,  but  sucking  the  bottle  and  finding  there  was  no  more, 
the  chief  finally  consented  to  accompany  Captain  Clarke  and  five 
men  on  shore.  But  they  had  formed  a  plan  to  stop  the  party. 


LEWIS    AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION.  267 

Two  of  the  Indians  prevented  the  boat  from  moving  from  the 
landing-place  after  this  party  had  disembarked,  and  the  second 
chief,  affecting  intoxication,  said : 

"  You  no  go  on ;  Indian  keep  you  here.  You  give  Indian  heap 
more  t'ings — not  'nough  yet.  Indian  want  heap  more  t'ings." 

"We  will  not  be  kept  here,"  answered  Captain  Clarke,  indig- 
nantly; "we  are  not  squaws,  but  warriors;  our  great  father  has 
sent  us  here,  and  he  can  send  his  soldiers  and  kill  all  the  Indians 
in  an  hour  if  they  do  us  any  harm." 

"  Indian  have  warriors  too,"  answered  the  chief,  gruffly,  as  he 
signalled  to  his  men. 

Captain  Clarke  drew  his  sword  instantly,  and  motioned  to  the 
men  in  the  boat  to  prepare  for  action.  The  Indians  surrounding 
him  drew  their  arrows  from  their  quivers  and  were  bending  their 
bows,  when  the  swivel  in  the  boat  was  instantly  pointed  towards 
them,  and  twelve  of  the  most  determined  of  the  white  men  jump- 
ed into  a  pirogue  and  joined  Captain  Clarke.  This  prompt  act- 
ion alarmed  the  Indians,  who  drew  off  to  a  little  distance  to  hold 
a  council.  Unwilling  to  leave  an  enemy  in  his  rear,  Captain 
Clarke  resolved  to  conciliate  them  by  a  show  of  friendliness,  and 
advanced  toward  them  with  extended  hand.  The  principal  and 
the  second  chief  refused  to  take  it,  and  he  turned  from  them  to- 
wards the  river ;  but  before  he  had  put  thirty  yards  between  the 
pirogue  and  the  shore,  the  two  chiefs  and  two  warriors  waded  in 
after  him,  asking  to  be  taken  on  board. 

Frightened  into  submission  by  this  evidence  that  the  white  men 
were  not  to  be  trifled  with,  the  Indians  now  spared  no  pains  in 
their  efforts  to  entertain  the  strangers  suitably ;  the  calumet  was 
smoked,  many  dances,  by  both  men  and  women,  were  performed 
for  their  amusement,  and  a  bountiful  feast  of  boiled  dog,  the  fa- 
vorite delicacy  of  the  Sioux,  was  provided  for  their  refreshment. 
It  seems,  however,  that  these  Indians  either  could  not  or  would 
not  produce  the  horse-thief. 

For  a  long  time  they  continued  their  journey  in  this  way,  stop- 
ping to  receive  visits  from  bands  of  the  Sioux,  who  were  uni- 
formly well  disposed.  To  follow  them  throughout  the  journey, 
day  by  day,  would  require  more  space  than  can  here  be  allotted ; 
the  reader  desirous  of  doing  so  will  find  McYickar's  edition  of 
Allen's  "  History  of  the  Expedition"  a  book  as  full  of  interest 
as  any  novel  or  newspaper. 

Early  in  November  they  decided  to  encamp  for  the  winter,  and 


268  LEWIS    AND    CLARKE    EXPEDITION. 

commenced  the  huts  which  were  to  shelter  them  at  a  point  which 
they  called  Fort  Mandan,  from  the  name  of  the  tribe  living  around 
it,  sixteen  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri.  Here, 
although  suifering  greatly  from  the  severity  of  the  season,  they 
passed  the  winter;  visited  constantly  by  bands  of  Sioux,  Mandan 
and  Minnetaree  Indians,  among  whom  they  often  acted  as  peace- 
makers. They  were  bountifully  supplied  with  vegetable  food  by 
these  visitors  from  their  stores  of  dried  corn  and  squash,  and  the 
hunters  found  an  abundance  of  game. 

In  February,  four  men  were  despatched  with  sleds  and  three 
horses  to  bring  up  meat  which  had  been  collected  by  the  hunters. 
About  twenty-one  miles  below  the  fort,  as  they  were  jogging  quiet- 
ly along,  with  no  thought  of  any  danger,  a  party  of  a  hundred  In- 
dians rushed  upon  them.  To  what  tribe  they  belonged  the  men 
could  not  distinguish,  so  cunningly  was  the  war  paint  disposed; 
but  .thought  they  were  Sioux.  Resistance  was  useless  and  the 
marauders,  cutting  the  traces,  carried  off  two  of  the  horses;  the 
chief  insisting  that  the  third  should  be  returned  to  the  owners. 
Two  knives  were  also  taken.  The  men  were  permitted  to  return 
to  the  fort,  no  other  injury  having  been  done  them.  Captain 
Lewis  immediately  sent  to  the  Mandans  to  inform  them  of  the 
outrage,  and  to  invite  them  to  join  a  retaliatory  party.  Two  of 
their  chiefs  came  to  the  fort  and  said  that  most  of  their  young 
men  had  gone  hunting,  and  that  there  were  but  few  guns  in  the 
village;  but  several  Indians,  armed  with  spears,  battle-axes, 
bows  and  arrows,  accompanied  the  expedition  under  Capt.  Lewis 
the  next  'morning. 

On  reaching  the  place  where  the  men  had  been  attacked,  they 
found  one  sled,  and  several  pairs  of  moccasins,  evidently  belong- 
ing to  the  Sioux.  Following  the  trail,  they  came  on  the  next  day 
to  an  old  lodge  belonging  to  the  tribe  which  had  committed  the 
depredation ;  but  the  marauders,  the  better  to  conceal  themselves, 
had  burned  it.  The  trail  here  left  the  river,  and  crossed  the 
plains  ;  so  that  it  was  useless  to  think  of  overtaking  the  thieves. 
Information  was  received,  a  few  days  later,  that  a  party  of  Sioux 
had  attacked  a  small  body  of  friendly  Indians,  and  killed  fifty 
of  them  ;  but  Captain  Lewi^  decided  not  to  take  active  part  in  a 
war  between  the  tribes  unless  in  self-defense. 

Leaving  the  camp  about  the  first  of  April,  they  were  alarmed, 
on  the  eleventh  of  May,  by  a  member  of  the  party  who  had  been 
on  shore,  who  now  came  running  toward  the  boat  with  every 


LEWIS  ANfi  CLARKE  EXPEDITION.  260 

symptom  of  fear  and  distress.  A  mile  and  a  half  below  he  had 
shot  a  large  brown  bear ;  wounded  and  maddened  by  the  pain, 
the  huge  animal  had  turned  and  pursued  him ;  but  from  weak- 
ness, by  the  loss  of  blood,  could  not  overtake  him.  Captain 
Lewis  and  seven  men  immediately  set  out  to  find  the  bear ;  and 
tracking  him  by  the  blood  to  a  thick  brushwood,  where  he  had 
dug  with  his  paws  a  bed  two  feet,  deep,  despatched  him.  This 
was  their  first  conflict  with  the  terrible  animal,  so  dreaded  that 


CLOSE  SHAVE. 


"  we  had  rather  encounter  two  Indians  than  meet  a  single  brown 
bear."  The  oil  obtained  from  this  one  amounted  to  eight  gallons. 
It  was  not  to  be  the  last  bear  encounter,  however.  Three  days 
later,  six  experienced  hunters,  having  discovered  a  large  brown 
bear  lying  in  the  open  grounds,  about  three  hundred  paces  from 
the  river,  came  unperceived  within  forty  paces  of  him.  Four  of 
them  fired  at  the  same  instant,  two  balls  passing  through  his  lungs, 
two  lodging  in  other  parts  of  his  body.  Furiously  the  animal 
rushed  towards  them,  his  open  mouth  displaying  the  strong,  cruel 
white  teeth.  A  blow  from  a  hunting  knife  partially  disabled  him, 
and  the  two  who  had  reserved  their  fire  now  took  aim,  one  ball 
breaking  his  shoulder.  They  had  no  time  to  reload;  on  the  mad 


270  LEWIS   AND   CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 

brute  came  with  fearful  rapidity ;  two  jumped  into  tte  canoes ;  the 
other  four,  separating,  and  concealing  themselves  in  the  willows, 
fired  as  fast  as  they  could  reload.  Bruin  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed 
life,  for  though  every  shot  entered  his  hide,  none  seemed  to  affect 
him  ;  as  each  man  fired,  he  would  rush  furiously  towards  the 
direction  from  which  the  shot  came.  At  last  he  pursued  two  so 
closely  that  they  threw  aside  their  guns  and  pouches,  and  jump- 
ed down  a  perpendicular  bank  into  the  river  that  ran  twenty  feet 
below.  The  bear  followed,  and  was  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
hindmost  when  a  well-aimed  shot  from  one  of  the  two  left  on  the 
shore  finished  him.  Dragging  him  to  the  bank,  they  took  his 
skin,  this  trophy  being  pierced  by  eight  balls. 

About  a  month  later,  when  Captain  Lewis  had  one  day  gone 
forward  on  foot,  he  met  an  immense  herd  of  buffaloes.  Level- 
ling his  rifle,  he  shot  one;  it  began  to  Bleed,  and  without  reload- 
ing he  stood  waiting  for  it  to  fall ;  not  noticing  a  large  brown 
bear  which  stole  up  to  him  until  it  was  within  twenty  steps.  It 
was  the  open,  level  plain  ;  not  a  bush  or  tree  near  ;  the  bank  of 
the  river  a  gradual  slope;  no  chance  for  concealment;  his  only 
hope  lay  in  flight.  As  he  turned,  the  bear  rushed  open-mouthed 
upon  him.  He  ran  about  eighty  yards,  when,  finding  that  the 
bear  was  gaining  fast,  it  flashed  upon  his  mind  that  by  getting 
into  the  water  to  such  a  depth  that  the  bear  would  have  to  at- 
tack him  swimming,  he  might  still  have  a  chance  for  his  life. 
Turning  short,  he  plunged  waist  deep  into  the  water,  and  facing 
about,  presented  the  point  of  his  knife  to  the  advancing  bear.  On 
seeing  his  antagonist  in  this  posture  of  defence,  bruin  retreated 
as  precipitately  as  he  had  advanced.  Resolving  never  again  to 
suffer  his  rifle  to  remain  unloaded,  Captain  Lewis  resumed  his 
path  along  the  Medicine  River.  Reaching  the  camp,  he  found 
his  men  much  alarmed  as  to  his  safety,  having  already  decided 
upon  the  route  each  should  take  in  the  morning  to  look  for  him. 
Much  fatigued,  he  slept  well,  not  aware  of  the  fact  that  a  huge 
rattlesnake  was  coiled  upon  the  trunk  of  the  tree  which  shelter- 
ed his  slumbers.  The  reptile  was  discovered  and  killed  the  next 
morning. 

Some  time  before  this,  the  party  had  divided,  there  being  con- 
siderable doubt  as  to  which  was  the  true  Missouri ;  one  party 
ascending  the  stream  now  known  as  the  Yellowstone;  the  other, 
under  Captain  Clarke,  going  up  the  Missouri  and  discovering  the 
falls.  Capt.  Lewis'  party  had  now  reached  the  Missouri,  having 


LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION.  271 

seen  their  mistake,  and  they  were  here  joined  by  Capt.  Clarke 
and  his  men. 

Much  of  the  time  was  spent  in  the  construction  of  a  portable 
boat,  the  iron  frame  of  which  they  had  brought  with  them,  and 
which  was  to  be  covered  with  skins.  After  much  hard  work  in 
preparing  the  skins,  fastening  them  securely  together,  and  calk- 
ing the  seams,  they  launched  her,  greatly  elated  at  their  success; 
but  the  water  dissolved  the  composition  which  they  had  used  in 
place  of  pitch,  which  was  unobtainable,  and  she  leaked  so  badly 
that  they  had  to  give  up  the  idea. 

They  had  learned  that  the  country  which  they  were  now  ap- 
proaching was  inhabited  by  a  powerful,  and  perhaps  a  hostile 
tribe,  the  Shoshonees ;  and  anxious  to  make  peace  with  these,  they 
proceeded  with  the  greatest  caution.  A  warlike  reception  from  so 
large  a  tribe  might  result  in  the  destruction  of  their  small  party. 
Having  ascended  the  Missouri  to  those  three  forks  which  they 
named,  respectively,  for  President  Jefferson,  Secretary  of  State 
Madison,  and  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  Gallatin,  they  came  to  a 
point  five  miles  above  where  the  first  of  these  three  divide  into 
two  branches.  Here  they  encamped  for  the  night  and  remained 
while  Captain  Lewis,  accompanied  by  two  men,  set  out  to  follow  a 
trail  which  they  hoped  would  lead  to  the  Shoshonee  camp,  near 
the  source  of  the  Missouri.  Their  fears  as  to  their  reception  by  this 
tribe,  however,  were  unfounded,  as  they  were  well  received  after 
they  had  succeeded  in  showing  the  Indians  that  there  was  no 
cause  for  alarm.  Still  the  Shoshonees  were  jealous  and  suspi- 
cious, and  it  required  all  the  address  of  which  our  travelers  were 
masters  to  allay  their  disquietude. 

It  was  the  eighteenth  of  August,  1805,  when  they  reached  the 
extreme  navigable  point  of  the  Missouri.  Here  it  was  decided 
that  Captain  Clarke,  with  eleven  men,  furnished  with  the  neces- 
sary arms  and  with  tools  for  making  canoes,  should  make  the 
overland  journey  to  the  Columbia,  and  ascertain  if  the  report 
which  the  Indians  gave  of  that  stream  were  true.  Having  come 
through  such  difficulties,  it  was  not  to  be  readily  believed  that 
they  could  not  descend  the  Columbia  when  they  had  ascended 
the  Missouri.  An  escort  of  Indians  was  obtained  without  much 
difficulty,  and  the  party  again  separated  for  a  time. 

Proceeding  through  a  wide  and  level  valley,  which  the  Indians 
pointed  out  as  the  scene  of  a  battle,  about  a  year  before,  in  which 
many  of  their  bravest  warriors  had  fallen,  Captain  Clarke  soon 


272  LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 

found  that  his  escort  must  be  fed  from  his  stores.  The  hunters 
were  not  able  to  kill  anything,  and  this  added  materially  to  his 
anxiety.  Yarious  bands  of  Indians  gave  the  same  account  of 
the  country  through  which  they  must  pass,  whether  they  kept 
directly  towards  the  west,  or  turned  towards  the  southwest.  It 
was  a  tale  to  appal  a  brave  man ;  a  fierce  and  warlike  people 
dwelling  in  caves,  and  living  principally  upon  horses  stolen  from 
those  who  passed  the  mountains;  a  passage  so  rough  that  horses, 
lame  and  wounded,  would  be  unable  to  go  on ;  a  parched  and 
sandy  desert,  ten  days'  journey  in  width,  where  no  animals  fit 
for  food  were  found,  and  where  they  and  the  few  horses  that  re- 
mained would  perish  of  thirst.  The  northern  passage  was  then 
selected,  the  explorers  reasoning  that  they  could  cross  where  the 
Indians,  with  their  women  and  children,  were  in  the  habit  of 
passing  from  one  point  to  the  other. 

They  soon  discovered  the  object  of  the  Shoshonees  in  telling 
them  of  such  dangers ;  the  wish  to  keep  them  through  the  winter 
for  protection,  and  to  secure  as  many  gifts  as  possible  ;  but  after 
almost  incredible  difficulty  in  obtaining  enough  horses  for  the 
journey  and  a  supply  of  food,  they  reached  a  river  to  which  they 
gave  the  name  of  Captain  Lewis  ;  a  few  days  later,  they  came  to 
Clarke  River  j  and  on  the  thirteenth  of  September  the  party  was 
again  united. 

Journeying  through  a  country  where  the  strong  and  barbed 
thorns  of  the  prickly  pear  lacerated  the  feet  of  men  and  horses, 
where  the  middle  of  September  saw  a  fall  of  snow  six  or  eight 
inches  in  depth,  where  no  living  creature  could  be  seen,  except  a 
few  small  pheasants  and  gray  squirrels  that  could  not  be  obtained 
for  food,  vjiih  their  stock  of  provisions  reduced  to  a  few  cans  of 
portable  soup,  they  grew  weak  and  sick  from  fatigue  and  insuffi- 
cent  food.  At  last  they  came  to  an  Indian  village,  where  they 
were  kindly  received  and  bountifully  fed.  These  were  of  the 
tribe  known  to  us  as  the  Nez  Perces ;  their  chief  was  absent  at 
the  time  with  a  war  party,  but  the  explorers  managed  to  secure 
a  good  supply  of  food  in  return  for  small  presents. 

They  had  now  traveled  over  the  mountainous  region  between 
the  southern  and  northern  forks  of  the  Lewis,  at  a  point  where 
the  distance  in  a  straight  line  is  about  one  hundred  miles.  Weak- 
ened by  want,  fatigue  and  disease,  they  determined  to  descend 
the  river  by  canoes,  five  of  which  were  accordingly  constructed 
at  their  camp  on  the  Kooskooskee,  a  branch  of  North  Fork.  The 


LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION.  275 

plain  into  which  they  had  now  descended  had  a  milder  climate 
than  they  had  lately  experienced,  and  had  they  found  the  Nez 
Perces  as  obliging  as  the  Shoshonees,  their  journey  might  have 
been  expedited ;  but  this  tribe,  working  hard  all  summer  for  the 
winter  supply  of  dried  salmon  and  roots,  hunting  deer  through 
the  winter,  and  crossing  the  mountains  in  the  spring  to  trade, 
was  but  little  disposed  to  return  any  of  the  favors  shown  them, 
and  developed  a  talent  for  bargaining  which  seems  to  have  been 
quite  distasteful  to  the  party  accustomed  to  get  a  large  amount 
of  provisions  for  a  few  trinkets.  These  Indians  looked  on  with 
contemptuous  surprise,  as  the  white  men,  unable  to  obtain  other 
food,  killed  and  cooked  a  number  of  dogs.  This  dish,  of  which 
they  had  eaten  but  sparingly  when  the  tribes  east  of  the  moun- 
tains had  offered  it  to  them,  they  found  not  unpalatable  after  a 
long  course  of  horse-flesh. 

As  they  floated  from  the  Lewis  into  the  Columbia,  and  down 
the  latter  river,  they  were  constantly  visited  by  large  bands  of 
Indians.  As  they  approached  the  coast,  some  Nez  Perces,  who 
had  accompanied  them,  grew  uneasy  at  the  idea  of. entering  a 
country  inhabited  by  a  hostile  tribe,  and  desired  to  return.  Their 
keen  eyes  saw  that  the  unusual  reserve  and  caution  of  the  visit- 
ors betokened  an  attack.  Our  travelers,  however,  succeeded  in 
persuading  them  to  remain  until  after  the  passage  of  the  falls 
they  were  approaching. 

They  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  early  in  November, 
and  encamped  for  the  winter  of  1805-6  •  constantly  visited  by 
the  Indians,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  trading  with  the  whites, 
and  were  never  satisfied  with  any  price  given  them.  They  dared 
not  show  hostility  in  any  other  mode,  however,  than  by  ill-hu- 
mor and  petty  thefts. 

After  the  cessation  of  a  ten  days'  rain  in  November,  they  occu- 
pied their  time  in  exploring  the  neighboring  coast,  in  curing  the 
meat  with  which  the  hunters  provided  them,  and  in  dressing 
skins  for  clothing.  Leaving  in  charge  of  the  Indians,  and  posted 
up  in  their  houses,  papers  bearing  a  brief  description  of  their 
journey,  they  set  out  towards  the  east  on  March  twenty-third. 

We  need  not  follow  their  course  closely.  The  Indians  were 
still  ill-humored,  and  disinclined  to  trade ;  but  as  they  again  ap- 
proached the  Kooskooskee,  a  new  means  of  obtaining  supplies 
presented  itself,  and  they  turned  physicians.  The  journal  of  the 
party  does  not  speak  in  enthusiastic  terms  of  either  skill  or  sue- 


274  LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 

cess,  though  perhaps  the  certainty  that  their  simple  prescriptions 
could  at  least  do  no  harm  would  not  be  shared  by  every  better- 
trained  physician ;  the  patients,  however,  had  no  fault  to  find, 
one  exchanging  a  fine  mare  for  a  vial  of  eye-water.  Their  fame 
preceded  them,  and  at  the  next  village,  where  their  whole  stock 
of  merchandise  could  not  purchase  food,  fifty  patients  awaited 
them.  The  fee  for  each  cure  ranged  from  a  lean  and  hungry  dog 
to  a  fat  horse ;  but  it  must  be  observed  that  payment  rewarded 
cure,  not  treatment. 

As  they  approached  the  mountains,  they  found  the  tribes  more 
hospitable,  one  chief  professing  himself  greatly  insulted  when 
asked  to  exchange  a  fat  horse  for  one  unfit  for  food,  and  present- 
ing them  with  several  animals  in  excellent  condition.  These  In- 
dians were  but  poorly  fed,  since  the  character  of  their  arms  pre- 
vented much  success  in  hunting;  and  the  occasional  gift  of  the 
flesh'  of  animals  which  the  white  hunters  killed  was  accepted  with 
demonstrative  gratitude.  This  tribe  is  described  as  the  most 
amiable  they  had  yet  found,  yet  a  favorite  Chopunnish  ornament 
was  a  tippet  of  human  scalps,  fringed  with  the  thumbs  and  fin- 
gers of  enemies  slain  in  battle. 

It  was  not  until  June  that  they  were  enabled  to  cross  the  moun- 
tains, where,  even  then,  they  suffered  much  from  the  cold  in  jour- 
neying over  the  snow-clad  ridges.  Their  stock  of  merchandise 
gave  out,  and  they  could  only  replenish  it  by  cutting  the  but- 
tons off  their  clothes,  and  by  spending  some  time  in  the  manu- 
facture of  eye-water.  They  also  suffered  much  from  unsuitable 
and  insufficient  food,  as  their  hunters  were  able  to  kill  but  little 
game,  but  at  last  reached  the  banks  of  Maria's  River,  where  they 
decided  to  remain'  for  two  days  to  take  some  observations  and 
rest  their  horses. 

As  they  proceeded  along  this  river,  they  met  with  more  decided 
hostility  than  the  Indians  had  as  yet  dared  to  show.  Ascending 
the  hills  close  to  the  river,  one  of  their  number,  a  Canadian  half- 
breed  named  Drewyer,  proceeded  along  the  valley  on  the  other 
side.  From  their  elevated  path,  they  soon  saw  a  party  of  In- 
dians looking  intently  at  Drewyer.  They  had  already  learned 
that  the  Blackfeet  were  not  disposed  to  be  friendly,  so  that  this 
was  by  no  means  a  welcome  sight.  Supposing  a  large  number  to 
be  near  at  hand,  they  were  unwilling  to  risk  a  fight,  and  retreat 
would  only  invite  a  pursuit  which,  since  their  horses  were  so 
bad,  would  be  only  too  successful.  They  determined,  therefore, 


LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 


275 


to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  flag  in  hand,  advanced  slowly  tow- 
ards the  Indians.  The  attention  of  the  Blackfeet  was  so  en- 
tirely  directed  to  Drewyer,  that  they  did  not  for  some  time  dis- 
cover this  advance,  which  evidently  threw  them  into  the  greatest 
confusion.  The  whole  party  of  eight  warriors,  being  reassured 
by  the  friendly  signs  and  movements  of  Captain  Lewis,  finally 
came  toward  them,  dismounted  and  smoked  with  them,  while  a 


KILLING  THE  THIEF. 


messenger  was  sent  for  Drewyer.  Captain  Lewis  learned  that 
his  suspicions  were,  unfortunately,  not  without  foundation;  these 
were  indeed  Blackfeet,  whose  thievishness  was  well  known ;  but 
feeling  themselves  quite  able  to  cope  with  eight  Indians,  poorly 
armed,  they  encamped  together. 

Finding  them  very  fond  of  the  pipe,  Captain  Lewis,  who  wish- 
ed to  keep  a  close  watch  during  the  night,  smoked  with  them  un- 
til a  late  hour.  As  soon  as  they  were  asleep,  he  awoke  one  of 
the  Fields  brothers,  ordering  him  to  arouse  all  in  case  any  of  the 
Indians  left  the  camp,  as  they  would  probably  attempt  to  steal 
horses  j  and  lay  down  in  the  tent  with  all  the  Indians,  the  two 
18 


276  LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION. 

brothers  lying  near  the  fire  at  the  entrance.  Awaking  at  sunrise, 
one  of  the  Indians  seized,  unperceived,  the  rifles  of  the  two  men 
in  the  tent.  The  sentinel,  turning,  saw  the  state  of  affairs,  and  pur- 
sued him  for  fifty  or  sixty  yards.  As  he  came  up  with  him,  a 
scuffle  ensued,  the  rifle  was  recovered  and  the  Indian  killed. 

Drewyer  and  Captain  Lewis  lay  side  by  side  in  the  tent,  their 
rifles  near  them  ready  for  use  at  a  moment's  notice.  Silently  two 
Indians  stole  towards  them,  as  their  comrade  seized  the  two  other 
weapons,  and  laid  hold  of  these.  The  moment  the  savage  touched 
his  gun,  Drewyer,  who  was  awake,  jumped  up  and  wrested  it  from 
him.  The  noise  a.woko  Captain  Lewis,  who  instantly  started 
from  the  ground  and  reached  to  get  his  gun ;  but,  finding  it  gone, 
he  drew  a  pistol  from  his  belt,  and  turning  about,  saw  an  Indian 
making  off  with  the  rifle.  Following  him  at  full  speed,  he  order- 
ed him  to  lay  it  down.  As  the  Indian  stooped  to  obey  this  order, 
the  two  Fields,  who  had  just  come  up,  took  aim  at  him. 

"  Don't  fire/'  shouted  Captain  Lewis,  "  he  doesn't  seem  to  in- 
tend any  mischief." 

Drewyer  begged  permission  to  shoot  him,  but  Captain  Lewis, 
wisning  to  preserve  peaceful  relations  if  possible,  forbade  it.  But 
finding  that  the  Indians  were  now  endeavoring  to  drive  off  all 
the  horses,  he  ordered  the  men  to  follow  up  the  main  party,  who 
were  chasing  the  horses  up  the  river,  and  to  fire  instantly  upon 
the  thieves ;  while  he,  without  taking  time  to  run  for  his  shot- 
pouch,  pursued  the  fellow  who  had  stolen  his  gun  and  another 
Indian,  who  were  driving  away  the  horses  on  the  left  of  the  camp. 
Pressed  so 'closely  that  they  were  obliged  to  leave  twelve  of  the 
horses  behind  them,  they  entered  a  steep  niche  in  the  river  bluffs. 
Too  much  out  of  breath  to  pursue  them  any  farther,  Captain  Lew- 
is called  out  that  unless  they  gave  up  the  one  horse  they  retained, 
he  would  fire.  As  he  raised  his  gun  one  of  them  jumped  behind 
a  rock,  and  spoke  to  the  other.  The  second  made  no  attempt  to 
conceal  himself,  and  fell  as  Captain  Lewis  shot.  Having  no  oth- 
er load  for  his  gun,  and  but  one  in  his  pistol,  he  thought  best  to 
retreat. 

Although  the  death  of  this  Indian  had  probably  much  to  do 
with  the  treachery  and  hostility  which  the  Blackfeet  afterward 
always  showed  to  the  whites,  our  explorers  did  not  come  off 
badly  in  this  engagement.  The  savages  had  made  off  with  one 
horse,  but  four  of  their  own  animals,  four  shields,  two  bows  with 
quivers  and  one  of  their  guns  were  left  in  the  camp.  Little 


LEWIS   AND    CLARKE   EXPEDITION.  277 

doubting  that  they  would  be  immediately  pursued  by  a  larger 
party,  the  whites  pushed  on  as  fast  as  they  possibly  could,  travel- 
ing about  a  hundred  miles  before,  almost  exhausted  with  fatigue, 
they  halted  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning;  setting  off  again,  sore 
and  scarcely  able  to  stand,  at  daylight. 

Happily,  they  were  not  pursued,  and  escaped  in  safety.  The 
theft  of  many  of  their  horses  by  Indians  that  they  could  not 
overtake  compelled  them  to  make  skin  canoes  in  which  to  de- 
scend the  river.  Captain  Lewis  received  a  flesh-wound  from  the 
discharge  of  a  gun  that  he  thought  belonged  to  one  of  his  own 
men,  who  had  mistaken  him,  in  his  dress  of  skins,  for  an  elk ;  it 
proved,  however,  to  have  been  a  lurking  Indian.  This  gave  him 
considerable  trouble,  and  it  was  not  until  late  in  August  that  he 
recovered. 

As  they  descended  the  river,  there  were  frequent  alarms  as  to 
the  movements  of  Indian  war-parties,  but  happily  they  were  not 
again  to  suffer  from  their  depredations.  Only  a  few  councils 
with  the  tribes  that  had  been  friendly  on  their  route  toward  the 
west  varied  the  monotony  of  the  journey ;  and  they  reached  St. 
Louis  in  safety  on  the  twenty-third  of  September,  1806,  "where," 
says  the  journal,  "we  received  a  most  hearty  and  hospitable  wel- 
come from  the  whole  village." 

The  total  length  of  their  route  from  St.  Louis  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Columbia  was  more  than  four  thousand  miles ;  the  return 
being  shortened  by  nearly  six  hundred  miles.  They  treated  with 
all  the  principal  tribes  along  their  route,  and  besides  furnishing 
a  map,  tolerably  accurate  even  for  the  present  day,  described  with 
considerable  fullness  the  plants  and  animals  of  that  section.  As 
the  immediate  results  of  this  expedition,  many  traders  ventured 
into  the  newly  explored  country,  and  established  posts,  which, 
like  the  small  settlements  of  the  Spanish  missionaries,  were  the 
first  foundations  of  the  present  constantly  growing  population  of 
the  Great  West.  It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  neither 
of  these  elements  advanced  the  settlement  of  the  country  as  the 
building  of  frontier  forts  contributed  to  the  growth  of  Kentucky. 
The  traders  endeavored  to  keep  all  others  out  of  the  country, 
that  their  business  might  not  suffer ;  and  the  rule  of  the  Spaniards 
has  never  been  beneficial  to  any  part  of  America.  The  hardy 
pioneers  of  our  own  race,  accustomed  to  govern  and  defend  them- 
selves, as  well  as  to  live  by  their  labor,  are  the  settlers  that  ad- 
vance the  prosperity  of  a  new  country. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

GEN.  WILLIAM  HEKRY  HAKKISON. 

"T~r~TlLLIAM  Henry  Harrison,  the  only  son  of  that  Benjamin 
VV  Harrison  who  introduced  into  the  Continental  Congress 
the  resolution  declaring  the  independence  of  the  colonies,  and 
who,  a  few  weeks  later,  affixed  his  signature  to  the  more  formal 
Declaration,  was  born  in  Virginia  in  the  early  part  of  the  year 
1773.  Graduating  at  Hampden  Sidney  College,  he  studied  med- 
icine, but  before  he  had  graduated  the  barbarities  of  the  Indians 
upon  the  western  frontier  so  excited  his  feelings  that  he  resolved 
to  give  up  his  first  choice  of  a  profession  for  that  of  arms.  His 
guardian  vainly  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  the  project; 
General  Washington  cordially  approved  of  his  determination, 
and  gave  him  a  commission  as  ensign  of  artillery. 

Though  but  nineteen  years  old  when  he  joined  his  corps  at 
Port  Washington  on  the  Ohio,  he  soon  found  an  opportunity  to 
distinguish  himself.  A  reinforcement  being  ordered  by  Gen.  St. 
Clair  to  proceed  to  Fort  Hamilton,  the  young  ensign  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  command  of  the  party.  The  country  swarmed 
with  Indians,  and  all  the  skill  and  vigilance  which  the  young  of- 
ficer could  command  were  necessary  to  success ;  but  the  expedi- 
tion was  accomplished  in  safety,  and  the  leader  rewarded  in  the 
following  year  (1792)  with  a  lieutenancy.  Victory  favored  first 
one  side,  then  the  other,  in  this  contest  between  the  United  States 
and  the  Indians,  but  the  army  under  General  Wayne,  which  Har- 
rison joined  in  1793,  was  destined  to  close  the  war. 

When,  in  October  of  that  year,  Gen.  Wayne  marched  forward 
to  the  country  of  the  Miami  tribe  of  Indians,  he  sent  a  detach- 
ment to  take  possession  of  the  ground  where  Gen.  St.  Clair,  his 
predecessor  in  command,  had  a  disastrous  defeat.  Lieutenant 
Harrison  volunteered  for  the  service,  and  was  accepted  by  the 
commander.  Arrived  at  the  fatal  field,  he  took  possession  of  it, 
interred  with  military  honors  the  bones  that  for  two  years  had 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY  HARRISON.  279 

whitened  the  ground,  and  erected  Fort  Becovery.  Again,  in  the 
famous  battle  of  the  Fallen  Timbers,did  the  wild  courage  of  Mad 
Anthony  Wayne  animate  his  troops,  and  the  Indians  were  com- 
pletely defeated.  With  the  true  generosity  of  a  hero,  the  gen- 
eral, in  his  official  account  of  the  battle,  compliments  his  young, 
faithful  and  gallant  aide-de-camp,  Lieutenant  Harrison,  as  having 
rendered  him  the  most  essential  service  in  communicating  his 
orders  in  every  direction,  and  for  his  conduct  and  bravery.  The 
consequence  of  this  display  of  courage  and  generous  recognition 
of  it  was  a  promotion,  soon  after  the  close  of  the  campaign,  to 
the  rank  of  captain,  the.  command  of  Fort  Washington  being  given 
him. 

Here  he  remained  in  comparative  quiet  until  1798,  when  the 
civil  appointment  of  Secretary  of  the  Northwestern  Territory 
was  given  him ;  and  a  year  later,  on  the  organization  of  a  terri- 
torial government,  he  was  elected  as  the  delegate  to  Congress. 
Although  holding  the  office  but  one  year,  he  performed  a  most 
important  service  for  the  new  territory,  and  one  which  contrib- 
uted greatly  to  the  speedy  settlement  of  the  west.  This  was  in  se- 
curing the  passage  of  a  bill  permitting  the  sale  of  small  tracts  of 
land,  in  place  6*f  parcels  of  four  thousand  acres,  which  hud  been 
the  least  quantity  obtainable  from  any  but  speculators.  During  his 
term  of  office,  the  territory  was  divided,  and  at  the  expiration 
of  the  year  for  which  he  had  been  elected,  President  Adams  ap- 
pointed him  governor  of  that  part  called  Indiana. 

Fitly  was  the  new  territory  named  the  Country  of  the  Indians, 
for  in  all  that  vast  expanse,  stretching  westward  to  the  Missis- 
sippi, there  were  but  three  settlements  :  Clark's  Grant,  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  acres  in  extent,  at  the  falls  of  the  Ohio ; 
the  old  French  settlement  at  and  around  Yincennes  ;  and  a  tract 
of  about  sixty  miles  in  length  bordering  on  the  Mississippi,  from 
Kaskaskia  to  Cahokia,  nearly  opposite  the  thriving  little  town 
of  St.  Louis.  About  five  thousand  souls,  all  told,  comprised  the 
population  of  this  territory,  which  now  supports  some  seven  mil- 
lions. The  Indians  were  naturally  hostile,  and  the  incessant  in- 
trigues of  the  British  agents  were  only  too  often  successful  in  in- 
citing them  to  depredations.  Wishing  to  prevent  the  extensive 
settlement  of  the  frontier  provinces,  and  to  secure  a  monopoly 
of  the  fur  trade,  the  British  government  kept  in  its  employ  agents 
who  industriously  set  afloat  among  the  Indians  reports  calculated 
to  excite  a  jealous  hostility  to  the  Americans.  The  United  States 


280  GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY  HARRISON. 

government  aimed  to  purchase  of  the  Indians  the  land  needed  for 
settlements,  to  introduce  among  the  savages  the  arts  of  civilized 
life ;  but  the  English  represented  this  as  a  plan  intended  only  to 
enervate  the  natives,  and  leave  them  unfit  for  war.  The  refusal 
to  allow  liquor  to  be  sold  to  them  was  especially  enlarged  upon. 

"  See  how  good  our  great  father,  King  George,  is  to  you.  He 
loves  his  red  children  so  much  that  he  wishes  them  to  have  plenty 
of  all  good  things,  everything  they  wish  for.  He  tells  us  to  give 
you  plenty  of  rum." 

Shortly  after  his  appointment,  Gov.  Harrison  was  visited  by 
the  chiefs  of  most  of  the  nations  inhabiting  the  territory  under 
his  rule.  Doleful  was  the  story  that  they  told  of  their  people 
killed,  their  lands  seized  by  the  settlers,  their  game  wantonly 
destroyed,  their  young  men  made  drunk  and  cheated  of  the  skins 
which  were  to  buy  necessary  stores  of  clothing,  arms,  and  am- 
munition for  hunting.  The  governor  could  not  doubt  the  truth 
of  these  complaints,  supported  as  they  were  by  unquestionable 
evidence,  but  the  uncertain  limits  of  his  jurisdiction  rendered  it 
difficult  to  give  the  Indians  satisfaction.  While.many  of  the  tribes 
were  not  disposed  then  to  make  war  upon  the  settlers,  yet  he  saw 
that  the  provocations  of  which  they  spoke  would  powerfully 
operate  in  favor  of  any  European  nation  thai  might  declare 
war,  and  the  Indians  would  be  ready,  with  such  protection  and 
assistance,  for  incursions  upon  the  settlements. 

But  the  town  of  Yincennes  was  daily  visited  by  the  Indians  in 
considerable  numbers,  who,  becoming  intoxicated,  committed 
many  crimes.  Murders  of  their  own  race  occurred  in  the  streets, 
the  houses  of  the  citizens  were  forced  open,  stock  killed,  and 
fences  broken  down.  The  unprovoked  murder  of  two  citizens 
awoke  revenge ;  the  murderer  was  pursued  and  shot.  Indig- 
nant at  this,  the  tribe  assembled,  waiting  for  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  retaliate,  but  quickly  dispersed  when  the  militia  was 
ordered  out. 

Harrison  spared  no  effort  to  conciliate  the  Indians,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  enforce  justice  in  the  whole  territory  under  his 
government.  In  the  period  from  1800  to  1804,  treaties  were  con- 
cluded by  which  nearly  sixty  million  acres  were  sold  to  the  Uni- 
ted States  by  the  Indians.  But  these  vast  purchases  had  aroused 
the  suspicions  of  some  of  the  Indians.  Two  chiefs  of  the  Shaw- 
nees  saw,  like  Pontiac,  to  what  the  Indian  race  was  tending,  and 
were  willing  to  try  much  the  same  plan  in  resisting  this  fate  that 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


281 


lie  had  tried.  The  "  Wild  Cat  springing  on  its  prey"  and  the 
"  Loud  Yoice"  are  the  meanings  assigned  to  the  Indian  names 
Tecumseh  and  Elskwatawa,  the  chief  and  the  prophet,  who  now 
sought  to  combine  all  the  western  tribes  in  an  alliance  against 
the  whites. 

Doubt  existed  for  some  time  as  to  the  intentions  of  the  Indian 
brothers,  Gov.  Harrison  being  at  a  loss  to  decide  for  or  against 
their  friendliness  for  many  years  after  the  germ  of  the  union  had 
been  formed.  Whatever  may  have  been  his  desires  later,  the 
earlier  efforts  of  Te- 
cumseh were  directed 
to  the  reformation  of 
his  people,  naturally 
unfitted  for  continuous 
effort  of  any  kind  and 
enervated  by  the  ex- 
cesses into  which  they 
had  fallen  during  their 
contact  with  the  whites. 
So  far  had  they  degen- 
erated from  the  an- 
cient standard,  that 
Harrison  asserts  in  his 
official  letters  to  Wash- 
ington, that  he  could 
tell  at  a  glance  an  In- 
dian living  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  town  from 
one  living  at  a  consid- 
erable distance.  The 
effort  to  reform  his 
people  led  the  savage  statesman,  Tecumseh,  to  desire  such  a  union 
as  Pontiac  had  wished — one  which  would  enable  the  Indians  to 
successfully  resist  the  encroachments  of  the  whites. 

Nor  was  Tecumseh  the  only  one  of  his  nation  who  held  exalted 
views  of  the  destiny  of  the  Shawnees.  At  a  conference  held  by 
the  chiefs  of  the  various  tribes  and  Gov.  Harrison,  in  the  year 
1803,  one  of  them  gave  vent  to  this  wonderful  story : 

"  The  Master  of  Life  was  himself  an  Indian.  He-  made  the 
Shawnees  before  any  others  of  the  human  race.  They  sprang 
from  his  brain,  and  he  gave  them  all  the  knowledge  he  pos- 


282  GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 

sessed.  After  he  had  made  the  Shawnees,  he  made  the  French 
and  English  out  of  his  breast,  the  Dutch  out  of  his  feet,  and  the 
Long-knives  (Americans)  out  of  his  hands." 

An  Indian  orator's  history  of  the  creation  is  usually  invented 
for  the  occasion,  and  this  one  proceeded  to  apply  the  facts  he  had 
gravely  stated  by  saying  that  since  all  the  knowledge  that  the 
whites  possessed  was  really  the  property  of  the  Shawnees,  from 
whom  the  Master  of  Life  had  borrowed  it  for  the  whites  for 
a  little  while,  the  white  people  had  really  no  right  to  the  articles 
which  this  knowledge  enabled  them  to  make — all  their  blankets, 
beads,  guns,  etc.,  rightfully  belonged  to  the  Shawnees. 

Tecumseh,  the  son  of  a  Shawnee  warrior  and  a  Creek  squaw, 
was  born  about  the  year  1770,  some  authorities  placing  the  date 
as  early  as  1768,  others  as  late  as  1771.  The  prophet,  sometimes 
called  his  twin  brother,  was  probably  younger.  From  his  boy- 
hood the  elder  had  a  passion  for  war;  the  sham  battle-field  being 
the  scene  of  his  usual  pastimes,  and  activity,  strength  and  skill 
distinguished  him  in  the  mimic  fights  in  which  he  was  always 
a  leader.  When  the  day  closed,  and  such  amusements  were  no 
longer  possible,  the  boys  would  gather  back  of  the  warriors  who 
>were  clustered  around  the  camp-fire,  telling  stories  of  the  occur- 
rences of  the  day.  The  Revolutionary  War  formed  the  main 
subject  until  his  manhood  had  nearly  arrived  ;  and  after  that 
war  closed,  the  fierce  border  warfare  furnished  accounts  of  per- 
petual skirmishing  and  scalping.  He  eagerly  drank  in  the  words 
of  the  old  chiefs  regarding  the  times  before  the  advent  of  the 
whites,  and  about  their  broken  treaties  and  promises. 

In  his  first  battle,  which  occurred  when  he  was  sixteen  or  eigh- 
teen years  old,  Tecumseh  is  said  to  have  fled  in  fright  from  the 
field  of  battle;  but  in  the  second  he  fought  like  a  young  lion, 
completely  wiping  out  the  stain  of  cowardice.  This  was  an  attack 
upon  some  flat-boats  descending  the  Ohio,  and  all  the  boatmen 
were  killed  but  one,  who  was  reserved  for  the  torture.  Strangely 
enough,  since  it  could  not  have  been  an  unusual  occurrence,  the 
young  warrior  had  never  before  witnessed  such  a  scene.  Filled 
with  horror,  he  remonstrated  against  the  practice  with  such  elo- 
quence that  his  hearers  agreed  that  they  would  never  burn  an- 
other prisoner.  Such  was  the  power  that  his  great  mind  had  al- 
ready gained  over  his  people. 

One  great  influence  that  Tecumseh  used  over  the  tribe  was  a 
superstitious  one.  The  prophet  is  not  an  uncommon  character 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON.  283 

among  the  Indians,  who  are  exceedingly  superstitious ;  and  they 
believe  most  firmly  in  his  power  to  foretell  events  and  to  avert 
threatened  misfortunes.  Elskwatawa  shared,  to  some  extent,  in 
the  great  talents  of  his  brother,  but,  to  reverse  the  expression 
of  an  old  author:  "His  virtues  another's,  his  faults  were  his 
own/7  He  was  neither  courageous  nor  truthful,  but  cunning, 
sharp  and  boastful.  Even  more  eloquent  than  the  chief,  his  man- 
ner was  said  to  be  more  graceful  than  that  of  any  other  Indian ; 
the  less  said  about  his  personal  beauty,  the  better.  There  can  be 
no  doubt,  however,  that,  like  Tecumseh,  he  really  sought  the 
good  of  his  people.  With  all  his  vanity,  deception,  superstition 
and  craft,  he  doubtless  believed  that  he  was  advocating  measures 
for  their  good. 

In  November,  1805,  Elskwatawa  first  formally  declared  him- 
self a  prophet  in  a  speech  made  to  an  assembly  consisting  of 
many  of  his  own  nation  and  of  the  kindred  tribes,  Wyandots, 
Ottawas  and  Senecas,  in  northern  Ohio.  Professing  to  have  been 
to  heaven,  he  denounced  two  practices  common  among  the  In- 
dians, witch-craft  and  drunkenness,  and  so  great  was  the  ascen- 
dancy which  his  eloquence  obtained  over  them  that  he  prevailed 
upon  many  of  them  to  abstain  from  strong  drink.  In  this,  Te- 
cumseh's  influence  is  seen,  but  the  persecutions  for  witchcraft 
were  all  the  Prophet's  work,  resulting  in  many  executions,  even 
of  chiefs. 

So  far  did  he  go  in  this  matter,  supported  by  the  superstitious 
terrors  of  his  tribe,  that  G-ov.  Harrison  was  obliged  to  send  a  let- 
ter of  remonstrance  to  the  Delawares,  urging  them,  in  the  name 
of  the  Seventeen  Fires  (States),  to  require  of  this  prophet  some 
proof  that  his  pretensions  were  true.  But  this  did  not  accomplish 
the  end  that  he  desired;  for  a  time,  indeed,  the  persecutions 
ceased,  but  the  influence  of  Elskwatawa  was  increased  by  his  ac- 
cepting G-ov.  Harrison's  challenge  to  work  miracles.  Hearing 
by  chance  from  a  white  man  that  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  would  oc- 
cur on  a  certain,  day,  he  boldly  announced  that  on  such  a  day  he 
would  prove  his  supernatural  power  by  making  darkness  come 
over  the  sun.  At  the  appointed  time,  the  Prophet,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  his  assembled  tribe  at  mid-day,  cried  out,  when  all 
grew  dark  around  them : 

"  Did  I  not  prophesy  truly  ?  Behold  I  Darkness  has  come  over 
the  sun,  as  I  told  you." 

This  established  him  more  firmly  in  the  esteem  of  the  tribes, 


284 


GENERAL  WILLIAM    HENRY   HARRISON. 


and  his  influence  increased.  About  a  year  later,  in  April,  1807, 
he  had  gathered  around  him  nearly  four  hundred  Indians,  greatly 
excited  by  religious  fanaticism  and  ready  to  join  in  any  enter- 
prise into  which  the  brothers  should  lead  them.  Great  alarm 
was  felt  all  along  the  border  when  the  strength  of  the  Indians 
became  known,  and  their  designs  appeared  to  be  suspicious.  In 
order  to  learn  their  object  in  gathering  so  many  warriors  around 
them,  the  agent  at  Fort  "Wayne  sent  a  half-breed  Shawnee  with 
a  request  that  Tecumseh  and  the  Prophet,  attended  by  two  other 
chiefs,  should  visit  him,  that  he  might  read  to  them  a  letter  just 

received  from  their  great  fa- 
ther. The  message  was  deliv- 
ered in  council,  but  the  great 
chief  did  not  deign  to  ask 
advice., 

"Go  back  to  Fort  Wayne, 
and  tell  Captain  "Wells  that  my 
council  fire  is  kindled  on  the 
spot  appointed  by  the  Great 
Spirit,  and  that  here  I  will  hear 
any  message  that  the  great 
father  in  Washington  may  send 
me.  If  he  has  anything  to  say 
to  me  from  the  great  father,  I 
will  expect  him  here  in  six 
days." 

Nor  would  he  abate  an  inch 
of  his  royal  dignity,  and  Cap- 
ELSKWATAWA,  "THE  PROPHET."  fafa  Wells>  lettep  reinained  un- 
read. The  excitement  among  the  Indians  increased,  and  by  the 
first  of  May,  it  was  estimated,  fifteen  hundred  Indians  had  visit- 
ed the  Prophet,  coming  from  all  quarters.  Many  came  from  a 
great  distance,  and  the  great  assembling  of  councils,  the  mes- 
sengers sent  from  tribe  to  tribe  with  belts  of  vampum  and  with 
pipes,  showed  that  some  uncommon  movement  was  on  foot.  It 
was  ascertained  that  English  agents  were  busily  at  work,  but 
all  plans  were  studiously  concealed  from  the  Americans. 

Several  councils  were  held  during  this  year  between  the  two 
races,  the  Indians  insisting  that  the  treaty  made  at  Greenville 
about  twelve  years  before  did  not  prescribe  the  boundaries  which 
the  white  men  claimed.  Tecumseh's  fiery  eloquence,  defying  the 


GENERAL  WILLIAM    HENRY   HARRISON.  285 

skill  of  the  interpreter,  traced  the  history  of  the  white  man's 
dealings  with  the  Indians,  and  in  its  object  and  effect  only  stop- 
ped short  of  breaking  up  the  council ;  his  speeches  were,  as  he 
had  intended,  repeated  at  every  camp-fire. 

In  1808,  great  numbers  of  Indians  came  flocking  from  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Great  Lakes  to  visit  the  Prophet,  and  prolonged 
their  visit  until  their  provisions  were  entirely  exhausted.  Gov- 
ernor Harrison  thought  it  prudent,  as  well  as  benevolent,  to  sup- 
ply them  with  food  from  the  public  stores  at  Fort  Wayne.  To 
the  Indian  agent  who  carried  out  this  order,  it  did  not  appear 
that  the  followers  of  the  Prophet  had  any  hostile  intentions  re- 
garding the  Americans ;  it  was  simply  a  religious  reformation 
that  he  was  preaching.  But  succeeding  this  reformation,  in  the 
following  year,  came  the  political  movement,  when  Tecumseh' s 
importance  became  greater  than  his  brother's. 

In  the  spring  of  1808,  the  Pottawatomies  and  the  Kickapoos 
granted  Tecumseh  and  Elskwatawa  a  tract  of  land  on  the  Tip- 
pecanoe,  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wabash.  Here,  with  about 
forty  Shawnees,  and  something  less  than  a  hundred  Indians  from 
other  tribes,  they  established  themselves  in  spite  of  the  remon- 
strances of  the  Delawares  and  the  Miamis,  and  the  village  known 
as  Prophet's  Town  was  built.  In  June,  having  determined  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Gov.  Harrison,  the  Prophet  sent  a  messenger  to 
say  that  he  and  Tecumseh  wished  to  live  in  peace  with  the 
whites.  Having  thus  paved  the  way  for  a  reception,  he  proceeded 
to  Yincennes  in  August. 

Governor  Harrison  had  noticed  the.  evil  effect  of  liquor  upon 
the  red  man,  and  in  his  communications  to  the  Department  at 
Washington  we  find  frequent  remonstrances  against  allowing  it 
be  sold  to  him.  But  the  love  of  gain  was  uncontrollable,  and  the 
traders  continued  to  sell  the  liquid  fire,  which  soon  kindled  a 
flame  that  threatened  to  consume  the  border  settlements.  When, 
therefore,  he  saw  that  Elskwatawa  really  desired  that  whisky 
should  be  kept  from  the  Indians,  and  that  he  had  succeeded  in 
reforming  many  of  them  in  this  particular,  the  governor  was  dis- 
posed to  form  a  very  favorable  opinion  of  the  Prophet. 

In  a  long  speech  to  Gov.  Harrison  he  detailed  the  system  of 
religion  of  which  he  professed  to  be  the  exponent,  and  narrated 
his  experience  during  the  three  years  that  he  had  endeavored  to 
benefit  his  people ;  closing  with  the  Indian's  usual  conclusion  to 
a  speech  made  to  the  white  man,  a  request  for  gifts.  Beneath  all 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON. 

Ms  ignorance,  persecuting  fanaticism,  and  imposture,  Gov.  Har- 
rison thought  he  saw  a  real  ambition  to  be  a  benefactor  to  the 
Indians,  and  respected  him  for  it.  With  a  supply  of  provisions 
the  Prophet  returned  to  the  Tippecanoe,  having  completely  out- 
witted the  governor. 

But  while  Elskwatawa  thus  appeared  to  be  the  mainspring  of 
this  movement,  there  was  a  yet  greater  man  in  the  background. 
A  thousand  years  ago,  the  aged  seer  said  to  the  prince  whose 
throne  had  been  usurped  by  a  warrior  of  renown : 

"  Know  how  to  wait,  and  the  kingdom  will  come  to  thee." 

This  was  Tecumseh's  great  power — the  ability  to  wait  the 
proper  place  for  the  execution  of  his  plans.  When  this  time 
came,  he  calmly  set  aside  the  prophet,  and  asserted  his  own  supe- 
rior qualities  as  a  leader.  Even  his  brother's  fame  and  power 
were  made  to  serve  his  own  purpose,  to  further  his  plans  for  form- 
ing a  vast  confederacy  of  the  Indian  tribes,  which  should  restrain 
the  whites  from  farther  encroachment,  perhaps  even  to  drive 
them  to  the  country  east  of  the  Alleghanies.  For  three  or  four 
years  he  traveled  all  over  the  country,  visiting  the  various  tribes, 
and  exerting  all  the  magic  of  his  eloquence  to  induce  them  to 
join  the  league. 

In  April,  1809,  the  Indian  agent  stationed  at  Fort  Wayne  in- 
formed Gov.  Harrison  that  he  had  heard  the  Prophet  had  ordered 
the  Indians  to  take  up  arms  to  exterminate  the  white  settlers  at 
Yincennes  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Ohio ;  this  being  the  order 
of  the  Great  Spirit,  who  would  utterly  destroy  those  who  ven- 
tured to  disobey  them.  This  was  probably  an  ambitious  scheme 
of  the  Prophet's  own,  during  Tecumseh's  absence.  Only  a  hun- 
dred warriors  were  actually  with  him,  but  reliable  information 
came  that  four  or  five  times  that  number  were  within  fifty  miles 
of  headquarters,  awaiting  only  the  signal  to  fall  upon  the  whites. 
He  therefore  immediately  organized  two  companies  of  volunteer 
militia,  and  garrisoned  Fort  Knox,  two  miles  from  Yincennes, 
This,  and  similar  energetic  measures,  appeared  to  frighten  the 
Prophet,  who  was  never  very  courageous,  and  who,  like  all  In- 
dians, would  not  strike  at  an  enemy  who  was  on  his  guard ;  so 
the  threatened  attack  was  never  made. 

In  July  he  visited  the  governor  at  Yincennes,  with  a  train  of 
about  forty  warriors,  and  meekly  but  earnestly  denied  any  part 
in  the  plot;  claiming  to  have  actually  dissuaded  the  tribes  from 
the  hostilities  they  had  planned.  But  Gov.  Harrison  no  longer 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON.  287 

believed  in  the  Prophet's  sincerity.  A  few  months  before,  he  had 
solemnly  promised  to  make  known  to  the  Amerioans  any  plots 
which  might  be  formed  against  them,  and  he  now  admitted  hav- 
ing been  pressed  both  by  other  tribes  and  by  the  British  to  join 
in  a  league  against  the  United  States. 

The  cloud  darkened  over  the  scattered  and  exposed  settlements 
in  Indiana.  News  came  that  the  followers  of  Tecumseh  and  the 
Prophet  numbered,  now  four  hundred,  now  eight  hundred,  and 
that  as  many  more  would  respond  to  the  Prophet's  call.  The 
Indians  refused  to  buy  powder  and  shot  from  the  American  trad- 
ers, hinting  that  they  could  get  plenty  from  the  British  without 
paying  for  it.  The  strength  of  the  league  continued  to  increase, 
and  the  Wyandots,  greatly  esteemed  among  the  other  tribes  for 
their  wisdom  and  valor,  came  into  the  union.  The  great  belt, 
the  symbol  of  union  between  the  tribes  in  the  previous  war,  was 
given  into  the  keeping  of  this  latest  accession,  who  also  pos- 
sessed the  original  copy  of  the  treaty  of  Greenville. 

In  the  meantime  Tecumseh  had  been  among  the  Shawnees  on 
the  Auglaize,  trying  to  induce  them  to  further  his  scheme ;  but 
the  old  chief,  Black  Hoof,  the  head  of  the  Shawnee  nation, 
resolutely  opposed  his  efforts.  Present  at  the  defeat  of  Braddock, 
fifty-five  years  before,  he  had  seen  too  clearly,  in  the  course  of 
his  long  life,  how  useless  were  all  attempts  of  Indians  to  drive 
back  the  whites;  he  had  signed  the  treaty  of  Greenville,  and 
from  that  time  actively  opposed  all  war  with  the  settlers.  Such 
was  the  ascendency  which  his  office  and  his  personal  character 
gave  him  over  his  people  that  all  Tecumseh' s  eloquence  was  in 
vain,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  tribe  remained  faithful  to  the 
treaty. 

In  June,  a  deputation  of  the  friendly  Pottawatomies  visited 
Gov.  Harrison,  and  gave  him  information  regarding  the  Prophet's 
plans.  Every  exertion  was  to  be  made  by  him  to  gain  the  sup- 
port of  the  tribes  west  of  the  Mississippi ;  and  that  secured,  De- 
troit, Fort  Wayne,  Chicago,  St.  Louis  and  Yincennes  were  all  to 
be  surprised.  He  had  failed  in  his  attempt  to  influence  some  of 
the  nearer  tribes,  by  reason  of  the  arguments  which  the  Dela- 
wares,  friendly  to  the  Americans,  used  to  these  whose  decision 
still  hung  in  the  balance.  Every  effort  was  made  by  the  Prophet 
to  secure  the  assistance  of  the  tribes,  more  than  one  execution 
for  witchcraft  being  referred  to  his  desire  to  frighten  the  chiefs 
into  joining  him, 


288  GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON. 

Immediately  upon  the  receipt  of  this  information,  Gov.  Har- 
rison sent  two  confidential  agents  to  Tippecanoe  to  discover  the 
designs  of  the  Prophet.  Kindly  received  by  Elskwatawa,  the 
following  conversation  ensued : 

"  The  governor,"  said  the  agent,  Mr.  Dubois,  "  has  seen  that 
the  Indians  are  unfriendly  to  the  Americans,  and  that  they  are 
combining  for  a  purpose  that  he  does  not  know.  Why  does  Elsk- 
watawa hate  the  United  States,  the  people  of  his  great  father  at 
Washington  ?  Why  has  he  gathered  so  many  warriors  together, 
and  armed  them  with  new  rifles  ?  The  Long-Knives  are  not  in 
the  dark  ;  they  can  see  what  he  has  been  doing,  and  their  war- 
riors are  arming  themselves  and  getting  ready  to  fight,  both  here 
and  in  Kentucky.  But  they  do  not  wish  to  fight,  unless  the  In- 
dians compel  them  to  do  so  ;  all  this  is  for  defense,  and  Elskwa- 
tawa and  his  people  will  live  in  peace  as  long  as  they  do  not  plot 
mischief  to  the  white  man." 

"  The  Great  Spirit  has  fixed  the  spot  for  the  Indian  to  kindle 
his  camp-fire,  and  he  dare  not  go  to  any  other.  Elskwatawa' s 
and  his  brother  Tecumseh's  must  be  on  the  banks  of  the  Tippe- 
canoe, or  the  Great  Spirit  would  be  angry  with  them.  Evil  birds 
have  carried  false  news  to  my  father,  the  governor.  Let  him 
not  believe  that  Elskwatawa  the  Prophet  wishes  to  make  war  up- 
on him  and  his  people ;  let  him  not  listen  to  the  evil  birds  that 
carry  false  news." 

"  How  has  the  great  father  at  Washington  injured  your  peo- 
ple ?  Say  how  it  has  been  done,  and  you  will  be  righted." 

"  The  Indians  have  been  cheated  out  of  their  lands  ;  the  white 
men  have  bought  from  the  chiefs  of  the  towns,  who  had  no  right 
to  sell.  Only  the  whole  tribe  can  sell  lands." 

Mr.  Dubois  told  him  that  he  ought  to  go  to  Yincennes  and  pre- 
sent his  complaints  to  the  governor,  but  this  he  refused  to  do,  al- 
leging that  he  had  been  badly  treated  on  the  former  visit.  The 
agent,  after  a  little  more  talk,  of  small  interest,  went  back  to  re- 
port to  the  governor.  Soon  after  this  visit,  four  canoes,  filled 
with  the  Prophet's  followers,  descended  the  Wabash  ;  these  In- 
dians, stopping  at  a  settlement  a  little  above  Yincennes,  attend- 
ed a  Shaker  meeting  oh  Sunday,  behaving  with  great  propriety 
while  there,  but  winding  up  their  Sabbath  by  stealing  five  horses. 

A  second  messenger  to  the  Prophet  was  less  kindly  received 
than  Mr.  Dubois  had  been.  Conducted  into  the  presence  of  Elsk- 
watawa and  his  principal  men,  he  was  left  standing  at  a  distance 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY  HARRISON.  289 

of  about  ten  feet  *rom  where  they  were  sitting.  The  Prophet 
looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments  without  speaking,  and  appar- 
ently without  recognizing  him.  At  last,  in  a  tone  expressive  of 
anger  and  scorn,  he  said : 

"Why  do  you  come  here?  Brouilette  was  here;  he  was  a  spy. 
Dubois  was  here;  he  was  a  spy.  Now  you  have  come;  you  are  a 
spy.  There  is  your  grave." 

From  a  lodge  near  by  issued  the  majestic  form  of  Tecumseh, 
who  said,  in  a  cold  and  haughty  tone : 

"  Your  life  is  in  no  danger.  Say  why  you  have  come  among  us." 

The  messenger,  in  reply,  read  a  letter  from  G-ov.  Harrison,  urg- 
ing upon  them  the  necessity  of  submitting  to  the  government. 

"I  know  your  warriors  are  brave,"  he  said,  "but  ours  are  not 
less  so.  What  can  a  few  brave  warriors  do  against  the  innumer- 
ible  warriors  of  the  Seventeen  Fires?  Our  blue-coats  are  more 
mrnerous  than  you  can  count;  our  hunters  are  like  the  leaves 
>f  the  forest,  or  the  grains  of  sand  on  the  Wabash.  Do  not  think 

tat  the  red-coats  can  protect  you ;  they  are  not  able  to  protect 

lemselves.  They  do  not  think  of  going  to  war  with  us.  If  they 
lid,  you  would  in  a  few  moons  see  our  flag  wave  over  all  the  forts 
of  Canada.  What  reason  have  you  to  complain  of  the  Seventeen 
Fires?  Have  they  taken  anything  from  you?  Have  they  ever 
violated  the  treaties  made  with  the  red  men?  You  say  they  have 
purchased  lands  from  those  who  had  no  right  to  sell  them.  Show 
that  this  is  so  and  the  land  will  be  instantly  restored.  Show  us 
the  rightful  owners.  I  have  full  power  to  arrange  this  business; 
but  if  you  would  rather  carry  your  complaints  before  your  great 
father  at  Washington,  you  shall  be  indulged." 

Pleased  with  the  governor's  speech,  Tecumseh  said  that  he 
would  now  go  to  Yincennes  and  show  the  governor  that  he  had 
been  listening  to  bad  men  when  he  was  told  that  the  Indians 
wished  to  make  war.  He  had  never  been  to  see  the  governor, 
but  remembered  him  as  a  very  young  man  riding  beside  Gen. 
Wayne.  Thirty  of  his  principal  men,  he  said,  would  attend  him, 
but  the  party  would  probably  be  larger,  as  many  of  the  young 
men  would  wish  to  go.  Notwithstanding  the  request  which  the 
governor  made,  on  hearing  this,  that  but  a  few  should  come,  four 
hundred  descended  the  Wabash  on  the  twelfth  of  August.  Paint- 
ed in  the  most  terrific  manner,  they  were  well  prepared  for  war 
in  case  of  an  attack. 

(rovernor  Harrison  had  made  arrangements  for  holding  the 


290 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON. 


council  on  the  portico  of  his  own  house,  and  here,  attended  by 
civil  and  military  officers,  a  small  guard  of  soldiers,  and  many 
of  the  citizens  of  Yincennes,  he  awaited  the  arrival  of  Tecumseh. 
It  was  the  fifteenth  of  August,  1810.  At  the  hour  appointed  for 
the  council,  Tecumseh,  attended  by  about  forty  of  his  warriors, 
made  his  appearance.  The  main  body  of  the  Indians  was  en- 
camped in  and  around  the  village.  Advancing  within  thirty  or 
forty  yards  of  the  house,  the  chief  suddenly  halted,  as  if  awaiting 
some  movement  on  the  part  of  the  governor.  An  interpreter  was 


"THE  EARTH  is  OUR  MOTHER" — GEN.  HARRISON'S  COUNCIL  WITH  TECUMSEH. 
sent  to  invite  him  and  his  followers  to  the  portico,  but  Tecumseh 
declined  this  invitation,  saying  that  he  thought  a  grove  near  by, 
to  which  he  pointed  as  he  spoke,  was  a  more  suitable  place.  The 
governor  objected  that  there  were  no  seats  there.  Tecumseh 
replied  that  the  Indians,  children  of  the  earth,  loved  to  repose 
upon  the  bosom  of  their  mother,  and  the  governor  yielding  the 
point,  seats  were  placed  for  the  white  men  and  the  Indians  lay 
upon  the  grass. 

Tecumseh  opened  the  council  by  saying  that  he  was  determin- 
ed to  resist  every  cession  of  land  unless  made  by  all  the  tribes 
acting  in  concert;  that  while  he  had  no  intention  of  making  war 
upon  the  "United  States,  it  was  his  unalterable  resolution  to  take 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON.  291 

a  stand,  and  resolutely  oppose  the  further  intrusion  of  the  whites 
upon  the  Indian  lands.  He  concluded  with  a  brief  but  passionate 
recital  of  the  wrongs  that  his  people  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
the  white  men  for  the  last  fifty  years  ;  a  story  that  powerfully 
appealed  to  the  passions  of  his  followers.  The  governor  replied 
in  pacific  terms  to  this  address,  and  sat  down  while  his  speech,  in 
turn,  was  being  translated  to  the  Indians.  But  the  interpreter 
had  not  proceeded  far  when  Tecumseh  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
with  a  fiery  eloquence  that  made  itself  manifest  in  look  and  ges- 
ture, as  well  as  in  words,  addressed  the  council.  Ignorant  of  the 
Shawneo  tongue,  Gov.  Harrison  supposed  that  he  was  making 
some  explanation,  or  advancing  some  argument  in  support  of 
what  had  been  said  ;  but  others  warned  him.  Winnemac,  a  friend- 
ly Indian,  who  lay  on  the  grass  beside  him,  busied  himself  in  re- 
newing the  priming  of  his  pistol,  concealing  both  weapon  and 
action  from  the  Indians,  but  evidently  desirous  of  the  governor's 
notice.  Gen.  Gibson,  who  understood  the  Shawnee  language, 
said  to  Lieutenant  Jennings : 

"  Those  fellows  intend  mischief;  you  had  better  bring  up  the 
guard." 

At  that  moment,  the  followers  of  Tecumseh  sprang  from  the 
grass,  seizing  their  tomahawks  and  war-clubs,  and  turning  their 
eyes  upon  the  governor.  Hastily  drawing  his  sword,  Harrison 
stood  on  the  defensive,  his  attendant  citizens  arming  themselves 
with  clubs  and  brickbats,  the  few  soldiers  being  of  course  better 
prepared.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  either  side,  until,  as  the 
guard  came  up,  ready  to  fire,  the  governor  ordered  them  not  to 
do  so.  Turning  to  the  interpreter  for  information,  he  was  told 
that  Tecumseh  had  interrupted  him,  declaring  that  all  that  the 
governor  had  said  was  false,  and  that  he  and  the  Seventeen  Fires 
had  cheated  and  imposed  upon  the  Indians.  Gov.  Harrison  se- 
verely reproved  Tecumseh,  saying  that  he  would  hold  no  further 
communication  with  him  ;  that  he  must  immediately  leave  Yin- 
cennes;  he  had  come  under  the  protection  of  a  council  fire,  and 
therefore  might  return  in  safety. 

There  being  now  no  doubt  of  the  purposes  of  the  two  brothers, 
Gov.  Harrison  proceeded  to  prepare  for  the  contest  by  calling 
out  the  militia  and  making  a  judicious  disposition  of  the  regular 
troops.  But  it  was  more  than  a  year  after  before  hostilities  actu- 
ally began.  Tecumseh  was  still  engaged  in  the  effort  to  strength- 
en his  cause  by  adding  other  tribes  to  the  league,  and  in  the  sum- 
19 


292  GENERAL  WILLIAM    HENRY   HARRISON. 

mer  of  1811  proceeded  to  the  south,  in  order,  as  was  believed, 
to  secure  the  assistance  of  the  Creeks.  Gov.  Harrison  was 
awaiting  reinforcements ;  these  having  arrived,  he  set  out  towards 
Tippecanoe,  to  hreak  up,  if  necessary,  the  rendezvous  of  the 
Prophet.  On  the  "W abash,  sixty  or  sixty-five  miles  above  Vin- 
cennes,  he  erected  a  fort,  which,  by  the  request  of  the  soldiers, 
he  called  Fort  Harrison.  Friendly  Jndians  brought  accounts  which 
left  no  doubt  that  he  had  acted  wisely  in  leading  this  expedition 
into  the  enemy's  country,  and  one  of  his  sentinels  was  severely 
wounded  by  a  straggling  party  of  Indians. 

Advancing  still  farther,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Yermillion  River 
he  built  a  block-house  to  protect  his  boats  and  heavy  baggage, 
and  proceeded  thence  to  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Prophet's 
town.  He  was  desirous  of  attacking  this  as  soon  as  possible,  be- 
cause he  knew  that  Tecumseh  might  return  any  day,  although  but 
one-fourth  of  the  year  had  expired  that  he  had  fixed  as  the  pe- 
riod of  his  absence.  At  this  point  he  was  met  by  ambassadors, 
who,  at  his  request,  on  his  assurance  that  he  had  no  hostile  in- 
tentions, if  the  Indians  would  keep  to  the  treaties,  showed  him  a 
suitable  place  for  a  camp.  He  found  the  place  admirably  adapt- 
ed for  regular  troops  who  were  to  be  opposed  to  enemies  fight- 
ing in  the  same  way,  but  affording  great  facilities  for  the  guarded 
approach  of  savages.  A  truce  had  been  agreed  on,  to  last  until 
the  next  morning,  and  trusting  partly  to  this,  partly  to  vigilance, 
he  made  his  preparations  for  the  night. 

It  was  a  piece  of  dry  oak  land,  rising  about  ten  feet  above  the 
level  of  a  marshy  prairie  that  stretched  towards  the  Indian 
town,  and  nearly  twice  that  height  above  a  similar  prairie  on 
the  other  side,  across  which  sluggishly  flowed  a  small  stream, 
its  course  marked  by  willows  and  brush-wood.  Towards  the  left, 
this  peninsula  of  high  land  widened  considerably,  but  narrowed 
rapidly  to  the  right,  where,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
from  the  right  flank  of  the  little  army,  it  came  to  an  abrupt 
termination.  Here  about  seven  hundred  men  were  disposed  on 
the  night  of  Nov.  6,  1811 ;  the  order  of  encampment  was  the  or- 
der of  battle,  each  man  sleeping  opposite  his  post  in  the  line. 
Notwithstanding  the  truce,  an  attack  was  fully  expected,  nor 
was  the  commander  disappointed. 

Tecumseh  had  left  absolute  orders  that  war  was  to  be  avoided 
during  his  absence,  but  the  Prophet  was  not  disposed  to  obey 
such  directions  under  the  present  circumstances.  He  had  j  ealous- 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON.  293 

ly  watched  the  decline  of  his  own  power  and  the  rise  of  his  bro- 
ther's, and  perhaps  wished  to  re-establish  himself,  by  a  victory 
over  the  common  enemy,  in  the  esteem  of  his  people.  Perhaps 
he  was  urged  too  strongly  by  the  chiefs  around  him.  "We  cannot 
now  tell  what  motives  actuated  him.  Surrounded  by  impetuous 
warriors,  the  flower  of  the  Winnebago  braves,  worked  up  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  fanatical  zeal,  more  fierce  and  cruel  than  ever 
Indians  had  been  before,  and  in  no  way  inferior  to  G-ov.  Harri- 
son's force,  is  it  any  wonder  that  Tecumseh  was  disobeyed  ? 

Early  in  the  evening  the  Indians  held  a  council  and  settled  up- 
on a  plan.  The  chiefs  were  to  meet  the  whites  in  council  the 
next  day,  and  agree  to  all  of  Harrison's  proposals  ;  retiring  then 
to  where  their  warriors  were  stationed.  Two  Indians  were  to 
remain  behind  and  assassinate  the  governor.  After  that,  the 
general  battle  would  begin,  as  the  attack  upon  the  governor 
would  be  the  signal  for  his  troops  to  fight.  At  the  very  summit 
of  his  importance,  Elskwatawa  boasted  loudly  of  his  power  over 
life  and  death ;  concocting  some  strange  preparation  and  saying 
outlandish  incantations  over  it,  he  poured  it  in  equal  quantities 
upon  two  small  boughs  from  a  neighboring  tree,  and  then  inform- 
ed the  warriors  that  one  half  of  Harrison's  army  was  dead,  and 
the  other  half  crazy,  so  that  it  would  be  a  small  matter  for  the  In- 
dians to  finish  the  work  of  destruction  with  their  tomahawks. 

The  night  was  dark  and  cloudy,  a  drizzling  rain  setting  in 
about  midnight.  Perhaps  it  was  the  weather  that  made  them 
change  their  plan,  since  such  a  nightwas  admirably  suited  to  the 
second  which  they  adopted  ;  certain  it  is  that  before  four  o'clock 
on  the  morning  of  the  seventh,  the  Prophet's  whole  force  was 
creeping  silently  through  the  long,  wet  grass,  upon  the  sentinels 
of  the  American  camp. 

It  was  G-OV.  Harrison's  custom  to  awake  the  troops  an  hour  be- 
fore daybreak,  the  whole  force  remaining  under  arms  until  the 
sun  rose.  A  little  after  four  he  rose,  and  was  pulling  on  his  boots 
before  the  fire,  conversing  with  some  of  his  officers — in  two  min- 
utes the  signal  for  calling  out  the  men  would  have  been  given, — 
when  suddenly  a  single  shot  was  fired,  followed  by  that  wild 
yell  which  was  the  night-mare  of  all  who  slept  in  the  Indian 
country.  The  shot  had  been  fired  by  a  sentinel  as  he  discovered 
an  Indian  creeping  up  to  the  camp  ;  the  yell  was  but  the  prelude 
to  a  thousand  others. 

The  guard  gave  way  at  the  point  of  attack,  but  the  men  who 


294  GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY  HARRISON. 

had  been  sleeping  on  their  arms  were  immediately  prepared  to 
receive  the  Indians  bravely ;  though  the  suddenness  of  the  attack 
might  have  created  a  panic  among  veterans,  and  only  one  man 
in  twenty  there  had  ever  been  under  fire  before.  The  camp-fires 
were  put  out,  that  their  light  might  not  assist  the  Indians,  and  in 
the  terrible  darkness  the  battle  raged  on  all  sides.  Elskwatawa 
had  prophesied  that  the  American  bullets  would  rebound  from 
the  bodies  of  the  Indians,  and  that  while  all  would  be  thick  dark- 
ness to  their  enemies,  they  would  be  enabled  to  see  clearly.  For 
some  reason,  however,  he  did  not  personally  try  the  truth  of 
his  prophecies  by  engaging  in  the  fight;  unwilling  "  to  attest  at 
once  the  rival  powers  of  a  sham  prophecy  and  a  real  American 
bullet ;"  stationing  himself  on  a  small  hill  near  at  hand,  he  chant- 
ed a  war-song,  presiding,  like  the  evil  genius  of  the  Indians,  over 
the  battle  in  the  darkness.  To  the  messengers  that  came  to  tell 
him  that,  despite  his  assurances,  his  followers  were  falling,  he 
said : 

"  Tell  them  to  keep  on  fighting,  and  it  will  be  as  the  Prophet 
has  said." 

With  a  determined  courage  that  was  rare  with  them,  the  In- 
dians fought  openly,  charging  bravely  upon  the  bayonets,  and 
quite  abandoning  their  usual  practice.  The  battle  lasted  until  a 
little  after  daylight,  one  last  furious  charge  of  the  soldiery  put- 
ting the  Indians  to  flight.  Less  than  a  month  after  this  great  bat- 
tle, Harrison  wrote  that  the  frontiers  had  never  enjoyed  more 
perfect  repose.  Tippecanoe  was  the  name  which,  in  commemora- 
tion of  this  victory,  was  long  bestowed  upon  the  successful  lead- 
er, whose  great  military  talents  were  soon  after  officially  recog- 
nized by  his  appointment  to  the  position  of  commander-in-chief 
over  all  the  forces  in  the  west  and  northwest. 

Nor  was  the  victory  due  mainly  to  the  subordinate  officers  and 
the  soldiers.  It  was  the  example  and  precepts  of  their  general 
that  urged  them  onward  to  victory.  From  side  to  side  of  the 
camp  he  rode,  here  leading  a  charge  in  person,  here  directing  an 
officer  how  to  give  support  to  the  side  attacked,  here  stopping 
to  reprove  the  cowardice  of  a  French  ensign  who  sheltered  him- 
self behind  a  tree,  and  who  complained  bitterly  of  the  injury 
done  him  in  supposing  he  was  cowardly  in  getting  there. 

"  I  vas  not  behind  de  tree,  de  tree  vas  before  me.  Dere  vas  de 
tree,  here  vas  my  position  ;  how  can  I  help  ?  I  cannot  move  de 
tree,  I  cannot  leaf  my  position." 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON.  295 

G-ov.  Harrison  was  in  no  slight  danger,  as  the  Indians  had  de- 
termined to  kill  him,  if  possible.  Intending  to  ride  a  white  mare, 
his  usual  steed,  an  accident  compelled  him  to  use  another ;  a  most 
fortunate  circumstance  for  him,  for  the  Indians  made  a  special 
mark  of  an  aid  mounted  upon  a  white  horse,  and  he  was  killed 
very  early  in  the  engagement.  But  although  the  brim  of  his  hat 
was  perforated,  and  his  hair  grazed  by  a  ball,  the  governor  es- 
caped unhurt. 

The  whole  day  was  spent  in  fortifying  the  angles  of  the  camp 
and  caring  for  the  wounded.  The  next  morning  a  strong  party 
was  sent  out  to  reconnoiter  the  Prophet's  town,  which  was  found 
deserted  by  all  but  a  chief  with  a  broken  leg.  There  was  a  great 
quantity  of  corn,  which  proved  very  acceptable,  since  on  the  pre- 
ceding day  they  had  had  no  food  but  horse-flesh.  The  town  had 
been  abandoned  in  the  utmost  haste.  Having  dressed  the  wound 
of  the  chief  and  provided  sufficient  food  to  last  him  for  several 
days,  they  told  him  to  say  to  the  Indians  that  those  who  should 
leave  the  Prophet  and  return  to  their  own  tribes  should  be  forgiv- 
en ;  then  destroyed  the  brass  kettles,  took  with  them  the  corn,  the 
fowls  and  the  hogs,  and  burned  tho  town. 

The  Prophet's  influence  was  gone  forever,  and  in  Tecumseh's 
absence  there  was  no  one  to  rally  the  scattered  savages.  The 
chief  returned  in  a  few  days,  to  find  the  confederacy  seemingly 
crushed  at  the  first  blow  ;  his  town  destroyed,  his  followers  scat- 
tered, the  Prophet  in  disgrace.  Not  all  tho  cunning  of  Elskwat- 
awa  could  shield  him  from  the  just  anger  of  his  great  brother.  Se- 
vere were  the  reproaches,  utterly  disregarded  the  trivial  excuses 
for  having  disobeyed  the  positive  command  to  keep  the  peace; 
Tecumseh,  doubly  exasperated  by  the  disobedience  and  by  the 
attempt  to  excuse  it,  seized  the  Prophet  by  the  hair  and  gave 
him  a  good  shaking.  When  we  think  how  he  had  used  his  influ- 
ence over  the  Indians  for  their  destruction,  we  cannot  help  re- 
gretting that  Tecumseh  administered  no  greater  punishment.  The 
Prophet's  power  was  indeed  gone  forever. 

"  You  are  a  liar/'  said  a  "Winnebago  warrior  to  him  whom  they 
had  but  lately  revered  as  a  messenger  from  the  Great  Spirit;  "for 
you  told  us  that  the  white  people  were  dead  or  crazy,  when  they 
were  all  in  their  senses  and  fought  like  the  devil." 

The  Prophet  replied,  in  a  tone  strangely  different  from  that 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  use,  that  there  had  been  some  mis- 
take in  the  compounding  of  his  decoction.  The  enraged  Indians 


296  GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY   HARRISON. 

bound  him,  and  threatened  him  with  the  death  to  which  he  had 
condemned  so  many  on  the  charge  of  witchcraft,  but  finally  re- 
leased him  without  inflicting  any  punishment.  To  prove  their 
good  intentions  towards  the  whites,  however,  they  told  many 
long  stories  of  what  they  were  going  to  do  to  him;  there  being 
as  much  truth  in  their  threats  as  in  his  pretensions  to  superna- 
tural power. 

But  Tecumseh  did  not  despair.  His  own  immediate  adherents 
were  dispersed  among  the  various  tribes,  his  headquarters  had 
been  destroyed,  and  that  spiritual  influence  which  his  brother 
possessed  was  entirely  gone ;  but  the  tribes  far  and  near  acknowl- 
edged his  fitness  to  be  a  leader,  and  many  of  them  were  still  wil- 
ling to  listen  to  his  plans.  He  continued  his  work  then,  still  hop- 
ing to  be  chief  of  a  confederacy  great  as  that  of  the  Seventeen 
Fires. 

The  Indian  depredations  continuing  to  alarm  the  frontiers 
through  the  spring  of  1812,  G-ov.  Harrison  endeavored  to  induce 
the  friendly  tribes  to  drive  off  the  Prophet  and  other  disaffected 
Indians,  but  was  for  a  while  only  partially  successful.  In  June, 
Tecumseh,  angered  by  being  refused  ammunition  at  Port  Wayne, 
went  to  Maiden,  allying  himself  with  the  English  who  were  then 
in  possession  there,  and  who  had,  just  before  his  arrival,  heard  of 
the  declaration  of  war  between  the  two  countries.  Engaging 
actively  in  the  cause  of  the  British,  he  sent  the  Prophet,  who  had 
regained  something  o£  his  brother's  confidence,  to  Fort  Wayne 
to  assure  the  agent  that  he  was  friendly  to  the  Americans ;  but 
his  hostility  soon  became  well  known  by  the  part  that  he  took  in 
more  than  one  engagement,  and  about  August  of  the  same  year 
he  was  made  a  brigadier-general  in  the  British  army. 

When,  in  September,  1812,  Gov.  Harrison  received  the  military 
appointment  already  mentioned,  his  main  object  was  to  recap- 
ture the  Michigan  territory  and  its  dependencies,  which  Gen. 
Hull  had  allowed  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  British.  In  order 
to  do  this,  and  secure  communication  with  the  United  States,  it 
would  be  necessary  for  him  first  to  take  Maiden,  and  then  to 
drive  the  Indians  from  the  west  bank  of  the  Detroit.  Having 
done  this,  he  would  march  upon  Upper  Canada  and  conquer  that. 
But  delays  of  reinforcements  prevented  his  moving  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  and  he  passed  the  winter  in  Fort  Meigs,  built  for  the 
purpose. 

Late  in  April  of  the  following  year  (1813),  a  large  force  of  Brit- 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  EEtfRY  HARRISON.  297 

ish  and  Indians,  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Proctor  and  Tecirm- 
seh,  appeared  before  the  fort  and  began  to  erect  their  batteries. 
By  order  of  Gen.  Harrison,  the  American  troops  threw  up  a  re- 
doubt twelve  feet  high,  behind  which  they  retired,  and  against 
which  the  ammunition  of  his  majesty  was  wasted.  The  siege 
continued  eleven  days,  during  which  the  Americans  met  with  se- 
vere loss  on  the  part  of  a  scouting  troop ;  but  this  was  thought  in- 
sufficient success  by  the  British  commander,  and  he  returned  to 
Maiden.  The  same  officers  returned  to  the  siege  two  months 
later,  but  again  gave  up  the  work. 

Perry's  victory  on  Lake  Erie  made  the  British  general  less  ag- 
gressive, and  in  September  he  abandoned  Maiden,  intending  to 
make  his  way  to  the  heart  of  Canada  by  the  valley  of  the  Thames. 
Harrison  having  received  all  his  expected  reinforcements,  fol- 
lowed in  hot  pursuit,  overtaking  him  on  the  fifth  of  October.  At 
every  defeat  that  the  English  had  suffered,  the  Indians  had  be- 
come more  and  more  dissatisfied,  and  at  length  began  to  hold 
secret  councils,  of  the  proceedings  in  which  they  would  tell  Gen. 
Proctor  nothing.  Tecumseh,  especially,  was  jealous  in  the  ex- 
treme of  his  dignity,  both  as  an  Indian  chief  and  as  a  British 
general ;  rarely  speaking  to  English  officers  or  agents  in  any  but 
the  Shawnee  tongue,  although  he  knew  English  enough  to  carry 
on  any  ordinary  conversation.  Nor  would  he  brook  what  he  con- 
sidered an  insult.  At  one  time,  while  they  were  still  at  Maiden, 
provisions  became  scarce,  and  while  the  English  were  supplied 
with  salt  beef,  the  Indians  were  given  horse-flesh.  Tecumseh  com- 
plained to  Gen.  Proctor,  who  seemed  indifferent  to  the  remon- 
strance. Touching  first  the  hilt  of  the  general's  sword,  then  his 
own  tomahawk,  he  indicated  a  way  of  settling  the  difficulty,  with 
the  words :  "  You  are  Proctor ;  I  am  Tecumseh." 

General  Proctor  gave  orders  that  English  and  Indians  should 
have  the  same  food. 

As  may  be  guessed,  Tecumseh  was  a  very  difficult  ally  to  man- 
age. Constantly  suspicious  of  the  English,  Gen.  Proctor  found 
it  necessary  to  deceive  him  as  to  the  result  of  the  naval  battle, 
and  also  as  to  the  retreat  from  Maiden.  Fearing  his  outspoken 
disapproval,  and  dealing  with  him  by  a  cringing  and  maneuver- 
ing policy  which  the  Indian  readily  saw  for  what  it  was,  the  Eng- 
lishman only  encouraged  his  ally  to  the  greater  insolence.  "When 
the  general  first  made  known  to  the  chief  his  determination  to 
proceed  up  the  Thames,  Tecumseh  retorted  in  a  speech  of  which 


t 
298  GENERAL  WILLIAM   HENRY  HARRISON. 

Proctor  kept  a  copy,  that  others  might  realize  the  insults  which 
he  was  obliged  to  swallow.  After  telling  how  the  Indians  had 
waited  for  the  English  to  give  the  signal  for  war,  he  spoke  of  the 
uncertain  information  that  had  been  given  them  in  regard  to  the 
naval  battle. 

"You  always  told  us,"  said  he,  with  fierce  emphasis,  "that 
you  would  .never  draw  your  foot  off  British  ground ;  but  now, 
father,  we  see  you  are  drawing  back,  and  we  are  sorry  that  our 
father  does  so  without  seeing  the  enemy.  We  must  compare  our 
father's  conduct  to  that  of  a  fat  dog  that  carries  its  tail  upon  its 
back,  but  when  affrighted  it  drops  it  between  its  legs  and  runs 
off.  Father,  listen !  The  Americans  have  not  yet  defeated  us  by 
land  ;  neither  are  we  sure  that  they  have  done  so  by  water ;  we 
therefore  wish  to  remain  here  and  fight  our  enemy,  should  they 
make  their  appearance.  If  they  defeat  us,  we  will  then  retreat 
with  our^father." 

The  advice  of  Tecumseh  was  not  regarded,  and  the  haughty 
chief,  curling  his  lip  with  scorn,  threatened  to  leave  the  English 
service.  Only  the  protests  of  the  Sioux  and  Chippewas  kept  him 
faithful  to  his  allies.  Sadly  he  said  to  a  young  Indian  compan- 
ion, as  they  began  the  retreat: 

"  We  are  now  going  to  follow  the  British,  and  I  feel  well  as- 
sured that  we  shall  never  return. " 

On  his  retreat  up  the  Thames,  Gen.  Proctor  promised  Tecum- 
seh to  give  battle,  first  at  this  place,  then  at  that ;  evading  always 
the  fulfillment  of  his  promise  until  it  was  no  longer  possible.  It 
was  only  when  arrived  near  the  Moravian  town,  a  village  of  con- 
verted Delawares,  that  Tecumseh  absolutely  refused  to  retreat 
any  farther,  and  Gen.  Proctor  found  he  must  prepare  for  battle. 

Here,  protected  on  the  one  hand  by  the  river,  on  the  other  by 
a  marsh,  the  English  and  Indians  arranged  themselves  in  order 
of  battle,  awaiting  the  American  forces.  After  his  warriors  were 
posted,  Tecumseh  said  to  the  chiefs  who  surrounded  him  : 

(e  Brother  warriors,  we  are  now  about  to  enter  an  engagement 
from  which  I  shall  never  come  out — my  body  will  remain  on  the 
field  of  battle." 

Unbuckling  his  sword,  and  handing  it  to  one  of  them,  he 
charged  him : 

"  When  my  son  becomes  a  noted  warrior  and  able  to  wield  a 
sword,  give  this  to  him." 

The  American  infantry  charged  and  broke  through  the  English 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


299 


line,  throwing  it  into  complete  disorder,  and  working  such  des- 
truction that  the  battle  at  this  point  was  soon  over.  Col.  John- 
son's mounted  battalion  rode  bravely  upon  the  other  wing,  where 
there  were  more  than  a  thousand  warriors  under  Tecumseh's  com- 
mand ;  but  the  Indians  remained  motionless  until  they  coul.d  see 
the  flints  in  the  Americans'  guns.  Then  Tecumseh  sprang  for- 
ward, with  the  Shawnee  war-whoop,  and  fired — the  signal  for  the 
fight.  The  advance  guard  of  the  American  force  was  nearly  all 
cut  down  by  the  first  fire,  and  Col.  Johnson  himself  severely 
wounded.  For  seven  or  eight  minutes  the  battle  raged  fiercely, 


DEATH   OF   TECUMSEH. 


Tecumseh  cheering  his  men  onward.  Over  the  prostrate  body 
of  the  American  leader  bent  an  Indian  chief,  ready  with  his 
scalping-knife ;  a  pistol-shot  and  the  savage  fell  dead.  The  Ameri- 
cans did  not  recognize  the  tall  form,  clad  simply  in  a  buck-skin 
suit,  without  any  ornament  but  a  medal,  as  that  of  their  most 
formidable  Indian  foe  since  the  days  of  Pontiac;  his  warriors 
knew  only  that  he  had  fallen,  by  whose  hand  it  little  mattered, 
and  turning,  fled  to  the  surrounding  marsh. 

General  Harrison  could  not  be  praised  enough  for  this  victory, 
won,  as  was  Tippecanoe,  by  his  skill  as  a  general  and  courage  as 
a  leader.  Congress  gave  to  him  and  to  his  assistant,  the  aged 


300  GENERAL  WILLIAM  fiENRY  HARRISON. 

ex-Gov.  Shelby  of  Kentucky,  a  vote  of  thanks;  accompanying  it 
by  a  gold  medal  presented  to  each.  The  General's  success  and 
popularity,  however,  aroused  the  jealousy  of  the  Secretary  of 
War,  who  gave  instructions  to  inferior  officers  without  having 
consulted  the  commander-in-chief,  and  by  similar  means  showed 
his  prejudice  against  the  hero  of  the  west.  General  Harrison 
would  have  been  lacking  in  due  self-respect  had  he  been  content 
to  retain  his  position  under  the  circumstances,  and  he  promptly 
resigned.  His  resignation  was  tendered  and  accepted  during 
President  Madison's  absence  from  the  Capital ;  and  the  Chief 
Executive,  who  greatly  regretted  that  he  had  not  known  of  the 
difficulty,  gave  him  a  fresh  token  of  his  confidence  by  appointing 
him,  in  the  summer  of  1814,  one  of  the  commissioners  to  treat 
with  the  Indians  at  Greenville.  Two  years  later,  he  was  chosen 
to  represent  Ohio  in  the  national  Congress,  but  had  hardly  taken 
his  seat  when  his  conduct  while  in  command  of  the  northwestern 
army  was  impugned.  A  committee  of  investigation  was,  by  his 
own  request,  appointed,  Col.  Johnson  being  the  chairman.  It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  result  was  a  triumphant  vindi- 
cation of  the  patriotism  and  ability  of  the  slandered  soldier,  who 
had  so  illy  deserved  the  aspersions. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  follow  every  step  of  his  future  life ; 
here  his  military  career  ends,  and  the  remainder  need  be  only 
briefly  outlined.  A  state  senator  of  Ohio  in  1819,  five  years  later 
he  was  chosen  a  presidential  elector,  casting  his  vote  for  Clay; 
elected  to  the  United  States  Senate  in  the  following  year,  in  1828 
he  was  appointed  minister  plenipotentiary  to  the  United  States 
of  Columbia,  then  in  the  confusion  so  common  to  the  Spanish- 
American  countries.  One  of  the  first  acts  of  Gen.  Jackson's  ad- 
ministration was  to  recall  him,  and  with  a  sturdy  independence 
he  descended  from  the  high  offices  that  he  had  held,  to  accept  the 
position  of  clerk  of  the  Hamilton  county  court.  Brought  forward 
in  1836  as  a  candidate  for  the  presidency,  the  opposition  to  Van 
Buren  was  not  united  in  support  of  any  one  candidate,  and  the 
devoted  follower  of  Jackson  was  elected.  Four  years  later,  the 
Whigs  had  learned  better,  and  the  convention  held  at  Harris- 
burg,  after  three  days'  balloting,  chose  William  Henry  Harrison, 
of  Ohio,  and  John  Tyler,  of  Virginia,  as  their  candidates. 

"  Give  Harrison  a  log-cabin  and  a  barrel  of  hard  cider,  and  he 
will  never  leave  Ohio  to  be  President  of  the  United  States/'  said 
one  of  his  political  enemies. 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON.  301 

The  saying  spread  like  wild-fire,  and  the  log-cabin  became  the 
insignia  of  the  Whigs,  as  their  war  cry  was : 

"  Tippecanoe  and  Tyler,  too, 
And  with  them  we'll  beat  little  Van." 

Thus  the  memory  of  a  victory  achieved  nearly  thirty  years  be- 
fore served  to  show  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  still  held  by 
the  people ;  and  the  name  of  the  Prophet's  town  was  coupled 
with  the  cry  of  "  Victory !"  in  the  fall. 

The  story  draws  rapidly  to  a  close.  For  the  first  time  in  its 
history,  the  country  was  called  upon  to  mourn  the  loss  of  its 
Chief  Magistrate,  a  month  after  his  inauguration.  Grief  was  gen- 
eral and  wide-spread.  "  Never  since  the  time  of  Washington,"  . 
said  the  National  Intelligencer,  "  has  one  man  so  concentrated 
upon  himself  the  love  and  the  confidence  of  the  American  peo- 
ple." Unfortunately,  even  the  child  can  remember  the  grief  of 
the  nation  on  such  an  occasion ;  there  is  no  need  to  expatiate  up- 
on it,  nor  is  there  need  to  say  more  of  the  character  or  services 
of  him,  whom  the  people  that  he  defended  appropriately  and 
affectionately  styled  "Old  Tippecanoe." 


CHAPTER  XII. 


JiJ 


COLONEL  DAYID  CROCKETT. 

YERY  newspaper  issued  to-day  chronicles  the  life  of  the  na- 
Ition,  as  made  up  of  innumerable  individual  lives ;  but  fifty 
years  ago  each  journal  told  of  a  few  prominent  individuals,  leav- 
ing to  the  reader  the  task  of  constructing  a  whole  from  these  parts. 
Hero  worship  is  dying  out  of  the  newspapers  and  the  political 
party;  it  is  no  longer  enthusiasm  for  a  soldier  or  a  statesman, 
but  the  policy  of  the  party,  or,  perhaps,  the  "  machine,"  which 
controls  elections.  Such  was  not  the  case  a  half  century  ago; 
then  it  was  personal  prejudice  that  defeated  a  candidate,  or  per- 
sonal preference  that  elected  him.  Such  were  the  days  of  Col. 
David  Crockett,  the  earliest  of  American  humorists,  whose  quaint 
sayings  were  household  words — or  equally  venerable  newspaper 
paragraphs — before  Mark  Twain  was  born. 

John  Crockett,  the  father  of  David,  was  born  in  Ireland  or  on 
the  passage  to  this  country.  He  was  a  soldier  in  the  American 
army  during  the  whole  period  of  the  Revolution.  Either  he  was 
married  before  the  war  began,  or  an  opportune  furlough  enabled 
him  to  woo  and  win  Rebecca  Hawkins,  a  native  of  Maryland; 
for  their  fifth  son,  David,  was  born  August  17,  1786.  The  fam- 
ily had  lived  for  a  time  in  North  Carolina,  but  had,  at  some 
time  before  this  date,  moved  to  Greene  County,  as  it  is  now 
called,  in  East  Tennessee.  This  was  then  a  wild  and  partly  set- 
tled country,  where  the  Indians  gave  considerable  trouble.  Short- 
ly after  the  removal  of  the  Crockett  family,  the  Creeks  murder- 
ed John  Crockett's  parents,  wounded  one  son,  and  carried  into 
captivity  another.  This  captive  uncle  of  our  hero  remained 
among  the  Indians  for  nearly  eighteen  years ;  the  fact  that  he 
was  a  deaf  mute  rendering  it  difficult  for  him  to  escape.  He  was 
finally  recognized  and  purchased  by  two  of  his  brothers. 

Such  was  their  poverty,  and  so  far  in  the  wilderness  was  their 
home,  that  John  Crockett  and  his  wife  could  not  give  their  chil- 


COLONEL  DAVID    CROCKETT.  303 

dren  any  tuition  at  school  for  a  long  time  ;  to  this  lack  of  school- 
ing is  probably  due  that  dislike  and  contempt  of  the  most  famous 
of  them  for  "  this  way  of  spelling  contrary  to  nature."  Each  of 
them  probably  acquired  a  goodly  share  of  shrewd  common  sense 
by  the  part  which  he  was  obliged  to  take  in  active  life. 

John  Crockett  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  unfortunate 
men  whose  business  ventures  always  fail.  "A  rolling  stone  gath- 
ers no  moss,"  and  in  seven  or  eight  years  from  the  time  of  his 
son  David's  birth,  he  had  moved,  changing  his  business  with  each 
removal,  no  less  than  three  times.  The  last  time,  he  settled  in 
Jefferson  County,  and  opened  a  small  tavern  on  the  road  between 
Abingdon  and  Knoxville.  The  accommodations  were  of  the 
kind  best  appreciated  by  the  wagoners  who  were  continually  go- 
ing to  and  fro  between  these  places.  The  tavern  was  on  such  a 
small  scale  that  David  had  almost  entire  charge  of  the  horses 
belonging  to  the  guests ;  a  task  that  at  times  was  arduous,  but 
to  which  he  soon  looked  back  longingly. 

There  came  to  the  little  tavern  one  evening  a  Dutchman,  nam- 
ed Jacob  Siler,  who  said  that  he  was  moving  from  Knoxville  to 
Kockbridge,  Virginia,  about  four  hundred  miles  off.  He  wanted 
some  one  to  help  him  with  the  cattle  that  he  had  with  him,  and 
John  Crockett  hired  his  twelve  year  old  son  to  go  with  this  stran- 
ger that  long  distance  on  foot.  David  was  very  kindly  treated 
by  his  master,  who  professed  himself  very  much  pleased  with  the 
services  of  his  young  assistant;  but  so  strong  was  the  boy's  at- 
tachment to  his  home  that  he  never  once  lost  sight  of  the  idea  of 
returning.  In  order,  however,  that  this  hope  might  ever  be  re- 
alized, he  was  obliged  to  conceal  it. 

After  what  seemed  an  age.to  the  impatience  of  youth,  but  which 
was  really  four  or  five  weeks,  he  espied,  while  playing  with  some 
companions  near  the  road,  three  wagoners  who  had  often  stop- 
ped at  his  father's  tavern.  He  told  them  his  pitiful  tale  of  home- 
sickness, and  they  said  that  they  would  stop  at  a  tavern  seven 
miles  fi;om  there  that  night,  and  leave  at  dawn  the  next  morn- 
ing •  that  if  he  would  be  at  that  place  before  day,  they  would 
take  him  along  with  them,  and  defend  him  if  his  master  pur- 
sued. Between  his  anxiety  to  be  at  home,  and  his  dread  of 
pursuit,  the  boy  slept  but  little,  and  arose  three  hours  before  day- 
break. When  he  started,  the  snow  was  about  eight  inches  deep, 
and  still  falling ;  no  moon  shone,  and  an  opening  through  the 
timber  was  the  only  road.  Cheered  by  the  thought  that  it  was 


304  COLONEL  DAVID    CROCKETT. 

the  way  homo,  and  anxious  lest  lie  should  be  too  late  to  overtake 
the  wagoners,  the  little  hero  plodded  on,  the  snow,  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  journey,  being  up  to  his  knees;  and  arrived  about  an 
hour  before  day-light.  He  was  at  first  fearful  of  pursuit,  but 
the  drifting  snow  had  obliterated  all  trace  of  his  foot-prints. 

He  journeyed  on  in  company  with  the  wagoners,  until  they 
reached  a  house  on  Roanoke,  where  he  left  them,  intending  to 
pursue  the  rest  of  the  way  on  foot,  as  he  would  thus  arrive  at 
home  much  sooner.  Meeting  with  a  strange  gentleman  who  in- 
vited him  to  ride  upon  a  led  horse,  he  accepted  the  offer,  and  they 
continued  together  until  they  reached  a  point  fifteen  miles 
from  the  little  tavern,  where  the  road  diverged.  Although  the 
name  of  this  stranger  did  not  linger  long  in  the  boy's  memory, 
the  kindness  was  never  forgotten,  but  was  mentioned  nearly  fifty 
years  after  with  gratitude. 

He  lived  at  home  until  the  next  fall,  when  his  father  sent  the 
boys  to  a  school  recently  opened  in  the  neighborhood  by  a  cer- 
tain Benjamin  Kitchen.  But  his  attendance  here  was  not  of  long 
duration.  Having  had,  on  the  fourth  day,  a  falling  out  with  one 
of  the  larger  boys,  David,  who  was  just  getting  a  good  grip  on 
the  alphabet,  slipped  out  while  the  more  advanced  pupils  were 
spelling,  and  hid  himself  in  the  bushes  by  the  roadside.  As  soon 
as  school  was  over,  and  the  other  boy  came  along  the  road,  young 
Crockett  sprang  upon  him  like  a  wild-cat,  and  soon  made  him  cry 
for  quarter.  But  the  victor  felt  himself  not  invincible  by  the  super- 
ior strength  of  the  schoolmaster,  and  decided  to  forego  learning 
for  a  time.  This  was  a  resolution  not  to  be  announced  at  home, 
however;  so,  having  persuaded  his  brothers  to  keep  his  secret, 
they,  as  usual,  left  the  house  together  the  next  morning,  as  if  all 
were  going  to  school ;  but  David  left  them  as  soon  as  they  were 
out  of  sight  of  the  house,  and  spending  the  day  in  the  woods,  re- 
turned with  them  in  the  afternoon. 

For  a  few  days  the  plan  worked  admirably,  but  soon  the  school- 
master sent  a  note  of  inquiry  to  David's  parents.  The  father  had 
been  drinking  just  enough  to  make  him  cross.  In  answer  to  his 
questions  the  boy  told  the  whole  story,  saying  that  he  knew  that 
"Kitchen  would  cook  him  up  to  a  cracklin'  in  no  time."  He  was 
soon  aware,  however,  that  he  would  not  meet  with  any  support 
at  home,  for  his  father  said  : 

"  I'll  whip  you  a  'tarnal  sight  worse'n  the  master  if  you  don't 
start  off  to  school  right  now." 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT.  305 

The  boy  tried  hard  to  beg  off,  but  vainly.  Seeing  his  father 
cut  a  stout  hickory,  he  judged  it  was  about  time  to  put  a  little 
greater  distance  between  them  j  off  he  ran,  not  towards  the  school- 
house,  chased  hotly  by  the  irate  old  man;  but  he  succeeded  in 
giving  the  slip  to  the  hickory  rod,  and  did  not  return  home  for 
nearly  three  years.  Often,  he  says,  did  he  wish  to  be  at  home 
again,  but  the  dread  of  Schoolmaster  Kitchen  and  his  father's  big 
hickory  kept  him  away.  Going  back,  he  was  not  recognized  for 
some  time,  nor  did  he  make  himself  known.  They  had  given  him 
up  as  dead,  and  when  his  sister,  startled  by  some  familiar  gesture 
or  smile,  proclaimed  that  the  lost  was  found,  such  was  the  joy  of 
all  that  he  would  rather  have  submitted  to  a  hundred  whippings 
than  have  remained  away  longer. 

The  whole  of  the  ensuing  year  was  spent  in  working  out  two 
debts  of  his  father's,  the  entire  sum  being  seventy-six  dollars. 
The  second  term  of  this  service  was  with  an  honest  old  Quaker, 
John  Kennedy,  for  whom  he  continued  to  work  after  the  expira- 
tion of  the  fixed  time,  in  order  to  provide  himself  with  clothes. 
During  this  service,  a  pretty  niece  of  the  old  Quaker's  came  to 
visit  him,  and  young  Crockett  fell  violently  in  love.  The  warmth 
of  his  affection  was  equalled  only  by  his  bashfulness,  but  at  last 
he  "  screwed  his  courage  to  the  sticking-place,"  and,  with  the 
usual  threats  of  dying  of  grief  if  his  love  were  not  returned,  he 
laid  bare  his  heart  to  the  lady.  It  was  in  vain,  however,  for  she 
told  him  that  she  was  engaged  to  her  cousin,  young  Kennedy, 
and  Davy  reconsidered  the  idea  of  going  into  a  decline,  deciding 
that,  as  his  troubles  probably  came  from  the  lack  of  learning,  he 
had  better  go  to  school. 

For  six  months,  then,  he  attended  a  school  kept  by  John  Ken- 
nedy's married  son,  working  two  days  in  the  week  to  pay  for  his 
tuition  the  other  four,  and  for  his  board.  Having  learned  to  read 
a  little  in  the  primer,  to  write  his  own  name,  and  gotten  as  far  as 
the  multiplication  table,  he  decided  that  he  could  not  possibly  do 
without  a  wife  any  longer,  and  quitting  school,  immediately  set 
about  providing  himself.  An  old  playmate  was  his  choice,  and 
after  some  evasion  and  delay,  she  accepted  his  offer,  and  a  day 
was  set  for  the  wedding,  the  bridegroom-elect  being  about  eigh- 
teen. 

He  had  purchased  a  rifle,  and  was  frequently  a  competitor  in 
the  shooting-matches  for  beef.  One  Saturday  he  set  out  to  one  of 
these  gatherings,  intending  to  go  on  towards  the  lady's  home  af- 


306 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 


terwards.  In  fact,  he  had  some  important  business  there,  as  they 
were  to  be  married  the  next  Saturday,  and  he  had  not  yet  asked 
the  consent  of  her  parents.  Of  his  success  in  this  direction,  how- 
ever, he  had  not  the  slightest  doubt,  and  his  good  opinion  of  him- 
self was  not  lessened  by  the  fact  that  he  won  nearly  the  whole 
beef  by  his  skill  with  the  rifle.  Disposing  of  his  prize  for  five 
dollars,  he  walked  onward,  stopping  on  the  way  at  the  house  of 
his  sweetheart's  uncle.  Hero  he  found  her  sister,  who,  with  con- 
siderable regret,  told  him  that  he  was  being  deceived  ;  .that  his 

promised  bride  would  marry 
some  one  else  the  next  day; 
but  that,  although  the  success- 
ful rival  had  asked  for  the  lady 
and  had  secured  the  license, 
her  parents,  she  knew,  would 
much  prefer  David,  and  if  he 
would  only  go  onward  to  her 
father's  house,  he  might  yet 
break  off  the  match.  David  de- 
clined to  do  so,  however,  not 
wishing,  perhaps,  to  force  him- 
self upon  her. 

Once  again  he  was  disconso- 
late, and  might  have  remained 
so  a  longer  time,  if  a  girl  whom 
he  describes  as  so  ugly  that 
it  hurt  one's  eyes  to  look  at 
her  had  not  taken  pity  on  him, 
DAVID  CROCKETT.  and  introduced  him  at  a  reap- 

ing to  a  pretty  little  Irish  girl,  with  whom,  of  course,  he  was 
soon  in  love  as  deeply  as  ever.  To  make  a  long  story  short, 
they  were  married,  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of  her  mother. 
Finding  that  no  one  else  objected,  the  mother-in-law  at  last  re- 
lented, and  gave  them  two  cows  and  calves  towards  settling  in 
life;  they  rented  a  cabin  and  a  little  ground;  John  Kennedy 
gave  them  an  order  on  a  store  for  fifteen  dollars'  worth  of 
household  goods  ;  "Adam  delved  and  Eve  spun,"  and  by  dint  of 
hard  work  they  made  a  living  for  themselves  and  the  two  sons 
born  to  them  soon.  But  renting  ground  was  poor  policy;  so  in 
1809  they  removed  across  the  mountains  to  Lincoln  county, 
where  game  was  still  plentiful,  and  where  he  laid  the  foundation 


COLONEL  DAVID    CROCKETT.  307 

of  his  fame  as  a  hunter.  After  a  two  years'  residence  here,  they 
moved  again,  this  time  to  Franklin  County. 

In  1813,  the  Creek  Indians,  living  in  Alabama  and  Georgia, 
being  incited  to  hostilities  by  the  British  and  Spanish,  surprised 
Fort  Minims,  forty  miles  north  of  Mobile,  and  massacred  the 
garrison,  numbering  about  three  hundred  persons.  There  was 
no  mistaking  the  meaning  of  this ;  the  Creeks  felt  themselves 
strong  enough  to  drive  the  whites  out  of  the  country.  A  call  for 
volunteers  speedily  followed,  and  the  hunter  felt  the  wild  passion 
that  leads  a  man  to  the  field  of  battle  raging  in  his  breast.  His 
wife  would  have  persuaded  him  to  remain  with  her  and  their 
boys,  but  he  answered  : 

"  If  every  man  waits  until  his  wife  tells  him  to  go  to  war,  we 
will  all  stay  here  and  be  murdered  in  our  own  homes." 

To  this  argument  she  had  no  reply,  and  when  the  muster  was 
held  at  Winchester  a  few  days  later,  her  husband  was  the  second 
or  third  man  who  stepped  forward  to  enlist.  Thirteen  hundred 
mounted  volunteers  joined  Gen.  Jackson's  command,  being  en- 
rolled for  sixty  days.  At  the  end  of  two  months,  however,  the 
war  was  by  no  means  over,  and  many  of  them  re-enlisted.  Crock- 
ett distinguished  himself,  not  only  as  a  scout  and  a  spy,  but  as  a 
brave  man  in  open  battle.  His  skill  in  hunting  proved  of  mat- 
erial assistance  to  his  comrades,  for  open-hearted  as  he  was,  when 
he  had  anything  to  share,  no  one  around  him  lacked. 

Shortly  after,  he  met  with  the  misfortune  of  the  death  of  his 
wife.  Left  with  three  children,  the  youngest  a  mere  baby,  he  at 
first  committed  them  to  the  care  of  his  brother's  wife;  but  how- 
ever good,  it  was  not  a  mother's,  and  he  undertook  to  supply  the 
deficiency  in  another  way.  A  widow  of  one  of  his  comrades 
lived  near  by,  and  to  her  he  suggested  a  union  of  their  two  fami- 
lies. Her  two  children  were  as  small  as  his,  and  each  seems  to 
have  adopted  the  other's  quite  cheerfully. 

The  succeeding  years  were  filled  with  events  of  comparatively 
slight  importance.  Crockett  continued  to  increase  in  popularity, 
the  elements  of  which  lay  in  his  readiness  to  share  with  all  com- 
ers, his  perpetual  good  humor,  his  fund  of  anecdote,  and,  when 
this  failed  him,  his  capacity  for  ready  invention ;  above  all,  by 
his  instant  recognition  of  the  merest  chance  acquaintance.  There 
is  nothing  which  gives  a  man  so  favorable  an  impression  of  an- 
other as  that  ability  of  the  other  to  call  him  by  name  without 
hesitation.  "We  are  well-disposed  towards  those  whom  we  impress, 
20 


308  COLONEL  DAVID    CROCKETT. 

Removing  to  Laurens  county,  he  found  there  a  most  primitive 
state  of  society.  Thinking  that  some  sort  of  restraint  would  be 
necessary,  the  men  of  the  community  met  to  elect  magistrates 
and  constables.  The  election  took  place  in  due  form,  Crockett 
being  made  magistrate ;  but  they  omitted  the  making  of  laws, 
leaving  that  entirely  to  the  discretion  of  their  chosen  officials- 
The  law  as  thus  administered  was  somewhat  informal,  as  may  be> 
imagined.  Justice  Crockett's  warrants  were  in  what  he  called 
"verbal  writing  •"  that  is,  he  would  say  to  his  constable,  when  any 
one  was  noted  as  an  offender : 

"  Catch  that  fellow  and  bring  him  here." 

Justice  and  constable  considered  this  sufficient;  and  it  is  to  be 
supposed  that  the  criminal  did,  too,  for  he  usually  allowed  him- 
self to  be  brought.  The  Assembly  added  their  settlement  to  those 
in  Giles  county,  and  decreed  that  the  justices  must  make  outtheir 
warrants  in  "  real  writing,"  and  keep  written  records.  These 
were  hard  lines  to  one  who  could  hardly  write  his  own  name,  but 
by  dint  of  perseverance  he  succeeded  in  learning  to  write 
more  easily,  and  to  keep  his  records  without  much  difficulty. 
Then,  too,  he  was  ably  seconded  by  his  constable,  whom  he  em- 
powered to  fill  out  warrants  when  he  thought  it  necessary,  with- 
out reference  to  his  chief.  But  the  judgments  he  delivered  were 
never  appealed  from,  for  all  the  irregularity  that  there  may  have 
been  in  getting  at  them;  since  they  were  formed  on  common- 
sense,  justice  and  honesty. 

One  honor  led  to  another,  for  so  did  his  office  of  magistrate 
raise  him  in  his  own  opinion,  that  he  was  a  willing  candidate  for 
their  positions.  A  short  time  before  a  certain  military  election, 
he  was  urged  by  a  Capt.  Matthews  to  run  for  major  of  a  regiment; 
he  at  first  refused,  saying  that  he  had  had  enough  of  military 
life;  but  so  strong  became  the  persuasions  of  Matthews,  who  said 
that  he  intended  to  offer  for  colonel,  and  would  do  everything  in 
his  power  to  advance  his  friend,  that  Crockett  yielded.  Finding, 
however,  that  in  spite  of  these  protestations  of  friendship  and  of- 
fers of  assistance,  Matthews7  son  intended  to  run  for  the  post  of 
major,  our  hero's  usual  good  nature  failed  him,  and'thinking  that, 
if  he  had  to  contend  with  the  family,  it  might  as  well  be  with  the 
head  of  it,  he  concluded  that  he  would  prefer  to  be  colonel.  "When 
the  election  was  over,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  both 
of  the  Matthews  were  badly  beaten,  and  he  was  Colonel  Crockett. 

,A.t  the  next  election  ho  becanie  a  candidate  for  the  State  Leg- 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 


309 


islature.  Electioneering  was  a  now  business  to  him,  and  lie  felt 
somewhat  doubtful  as  to  his  success,  knowing  but  little,  if  any- 
thing,  about  "  government/'  Like  many  another  man,  though, 
while  not  claiming  to  know  more  than  he  did,  he  did  not  tell  ex- 
actly how  much  he  did  not  know ;  the  result  was  that  nobody 
thought  anything  about  it,  being  satisfied  that  a  man  who  could 


CROCKETT  ON  THE  STUMP. 

make  such  entertaining  speeches',  tell  such  capital  stories,  and 
then  lead  the  way  to  a  neighboring  bar,  was  the  man  to  represent 
them.  But  Col.  Crockett  was  not  satisfied  with  himself  5  he  was 
anxious  to  know  as  much  about  government  as  any  other  repre- 
sentative of  the  people.  Arrived  at  the  capital  and  duly  recog- 
nized, he  found  his  brother  legislators  continually  introducing 
bills,  and  became  possessed  with  the  idea  that  he  must  do  the 
same,  A  friend  drafted  one  for  him,  and  he  arose  and  confidently 


310  COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 

presented  it  to  the  consideration  of  the  house.  A  member  who 
opposed  it  alluded  to  Col.  Crockett  in  a  disparaging  way ;  but  if 
ever  a  man  regretted  lack  of  courtesy  towards  an  opponent,  this 
one  did  ;  for  thus  called  upon  to  answer,  the  mighty  hunter  pour- 
ed forth  such  a  flood  of  backwoods  eloquence  that  the  whole  as- 
sembly roared  with  laughter ;  he  ended  by  comparing  this  op- 
ponent to  "  an  old  coon  dog  barking  up  the  wrong  tree." 

Before  his  election,  he  had  built  a  large  grist-mill,  with  pow- 
der-mill and  distillery  near  by;  the  buildings  for  these  three 
purposes  costing  about  three  thousand  dollars.  This  was  more 
than  he  had,  but  he  trusted  to  the  profits  of  his  business  to  ena- 
ble him  to  pay  off  the  debt  thus  contracted.  During  his  absence 
at  the  capital,  however,  a  freshet  swept  away  the  buildings,  and 
he  was  ruined.  On  his  return,  his  wife,  much  to  his  pleasure,  said 
to  him : 

"Just  pay  up,  as  long  as  you  have  a  bit's  worth  in  the  world; 
then  everybody  will  be  satisfied  and  we  will  scuffle  for  more." 

Taking  this  advice,  he  disposed  of  the  negroes  that  he  owned, 
and  everything  else  available  for  the  purpose,  and  prepared  to 
go  still  farther  west.  His  new  location  was  near  or  in  that  part 
of  the  country  known  as  the  "  Shakes,"  from  the  frequent,  though 
light  shocks  felt  there  after  the  ~Ncw  Madrid  earthquake  of  1812. 
He  was  accompanied  only  by  his  eldest  son,  still  a  boy,  and  a 
young  man.  Building  a  cabin  and  clearing  a  small  space,  he  put 
in  a  crop  of  corn,  and  while  it  was  growing  indulged  in  his  fav- 
orite sport  of  hunting.  "Betsy,"  as  he  called  his  old,  roughly- 
fashioned  rifle,  was  the  companion  of  many  a  long  day  spent  in 
the  woods ;  Betsy  never  told  him  a  lie,  but  always  sent  a  ball 
just  where  he  told  her  ;  Betsy  killed  six  deer  in  one  day  in  that 
game  abounding  country;  and  during  that  spring  as  many  as  ten 
bears  fell  before  her.  A  called  session  of  the  Legislature  sum- 
,  moned  him  soon  after  he  got  in  his  crop,  and  on  his  return  he 
brought  his  family  to  his  new  home.  The  latter  .part  of  October, 
1822,  saw  the  little  family,  with  two  heavily  laden  pack-horses, 
traveling  yet  farther  into  the  "  far  West;"  in  front  of  this  little 
party,  humming  a  song,  walked  a  cheerful,  light-hearted  woods- 
man, carrying  a  child  on  one  arm  and  a  rifle  with  the  other,  and 
followed  by  half  a  dozen  dogs. 

For  two  months  things  went  on  well  at  that  little  cabin  in  the 
woods,  seven  miles  from  the  nearest  house,  and  fifteen  miles  from 
the  next  nearest  neighbor.  "Betsy"  kept  them  supplied  with  a» 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT.  311 

abundance  of  meat;  but  at  last,  near  Christmas,  there  was  dan- 
ger of  starvation,  for  the  stock  of  powder  gave  out.  Not  only 
did  it  mean  no  more  game,  but  no  Christmas  guns  could  be  fired. 
Col.  Crockett  knew  that  a  keg  of  powder  had  been  left  at  his 
brother-in-law's  house  for  him,  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  stream 
called  Rutherford's  Fork,  and  determined  to  get  it.  Unusually 
heavy  rains  had  swollen  the  little  river  so  that  it  was  about  a 
mile  wide,  stretching  from  hill  to  hill.  There  were  no  bridges, 
and  either  he  had  no  boat,  or  it  could  not  be  used  in  the  long 
stretch  of  shallow  water.  He  "  learned  then,"  to  use  his  own 
words,  "  how  much  anybody  could  suffer  and  not  die/'  "Walking 
for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  through  snow  four  inches  deep,  he 
came  to  that  vast  expanse  of  water.  Through  this  he  waded  and 
swam,  holding  aloft  on  his  gun  the  bundle  of  dry  clothes.  So 
cold  was  he  when  he  emerged,  that,  trying  to  run,  in  order  to  get 
warm,  he  found  it  impossible  to  move  his  foot  its  own  length. 
But,  as  he  records,  he  got  the  powder,  though  he  was  obliged  to 
stay  three  or  four  days  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  cross- 
ing on  the  ice,  broke  through  more  than  once.  Undaunted  by 
what  he  had  undergone,  as  he  neared  the  home  side  of  the  stream 
he  saw  what  he  thought  was  a  bear's  trail,  and  determined  to 
follow  up  his  favorite  game.  The  animal  had  evidently  broken 
through  the  ice,  and,  disgusted  with  the  cold  bath,  returned  to 
land.  Following  the  trail,  it  led  him  to  his  own  door,  and  proved 
to  be  that  of  a  young  man  sent  by  his  wife  to  search  for  him  •  her 
intense  anxiety  telling  her  that  he  must  have  been  drowned  or 
frozen. 

A  heavy  rain  that  night,  turning  to  sleet,  was  followed  in  the 
morning  by  the  "  southerly  wind  and  a  cloudy  sky"  so  favorable 
for  hunting,  and  Crockett,  his  brother-in-law,  and  the  young  man 
living  with  him,  started  out.  Before  long  they  separated,  he  pre- 
ferring to  look  for  larger  game  than  they.  Two  wild  turkeys 
were  killed  early  in  the  day  by  "  Betsy,"  and  with  these  on  his 
shoulder  the  hunter  continued  his  search  for  bears.  The  dogs 
soon  gave  the  alarm,  but  on  looking  up  the  tree  where  they  were 
barking  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  a  turkey  which  had 
flown  away.  The  false  alarm  was  given  several  times,  and  he 
had  about  made  up  his  mind  to  shoot  the  hound  that  was  fore- 
most, when  he  saw  a  bear  of  extraordinary  size.  So  large  was 
he  that  the  dogs  were  afraid  to  attack  him,  and  when  they  had 
seemed  to  be  barking  up  the  wrong  tree,  had  only  been  enticing 


312 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


their  master  onwards.  So  dark  had  it  grown,  that  he  was  hard- 
ly able  to  see  the  animal,  or  there  would  have  heen  less  difficul- 
ty in  despatching  it;  but  after  a  severe  encounter,  in  which  he 
stabbed  the  bear  again  and  again,  and  his  own  clothes  were  torn 
and  covered  with  blood,  the  huge,  clumsy  animal  lay  dead. 

Having  on  hand  a  number  of  skins,  he  set  out,  in  company  with 
his  eldest  son,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  favorite  companion,  to. 
wards  a  town  forty  miles  away,  to  trade  for  groceries.  Here  he 
met  with  some  of  his  old  acquaintances  of  political  life,  who  urged 


CROCKETT'S  FIGHT  WITH  A  BEAR. 

him  to  become  again  a  candidate  for  his  old  office  from  this  new 
district;  but  he  refused  positively  to  do  so. 

"  I  live  down  in  the  cane,"  he  said,  "  forty  miles  from  town, 
and  nobody  knows  me  in  this  district  as  they  did  in  the  other." 

He  thought  this  was  decisive,  but  it  seems  that  his  old  comrades 
thought  otherwise.  About  a  week  afterwards,  a  passing  traveler 
stopped  at  the  cabin  in  the  cane,  and  showed  the  family  there  a 
newspaper  in  which  Col.  David  Crockett  was  announced  as  a  can- 
didate for  the  Legislature.  It  was  a  clear  case  of  the  office  seek- 
ing the  man,  but  the  man  was  at  first  disposed  to  regard  it  as  a 
joke  that  was  being  played  on  him.  Our  hero  was  never  loath 


COLONEI/  MVID    CROCKETT.  313 

to  enter  into  liny  fun,  and  soon  determined  to  have  the  best  of  it. 
Hiring  a  young  man  to  work  on  his  farm,  he  started  out  elec- 
tioneering, £nd  the  district  soon  rang  with  the  praises  of  the 
great  bear-hunter,  the  man  from  the  cane.  There  had  been  three 
candidates  in  the  field,  but  Crockett  made  things  so  hot  that  in 
March  they  held  a  caucus  to  decide  which  should  remain  in  the 
lists.  The  strength  of  the  three  was  concentrated  on  Dr.  Butler, 
a  nephew  by  marriage  of  the  great  Tennesseean,  G-en.  Jackson. 
Meeting  this  gentleman  at  one  of  the  large  gatherings,  Crockett 
hailed  him  with : 

"Well,  doctor,  I  suppose  they  have  weighed  you  out  to  me ;  but 
I  should  like  to  know  why  they  fixed  your  election  for  March  in- 
stead of  August.  This  is  a  branfire  new  way  of  doing  business,  if 
#  caucus  is  to  make  a  representative  for  the  people." 

Thinking  to  poke  fun  at  Crockett,  he  answered:  " "Where  did 
you  spring  from,  Colonel?" 

"  O,  I've  just  crept  out  from  the  cane,  to  see  what  discoveries  I 
could  make  among  the  white  people.  You  think  you  have  greatly 
the  advantage  of  me  j  it's  true  I  live  forty  miles  from  any  settle- 
ment; I  am  very  poor,  and  you  are  very  rich  ;  you  see,  it  takes 
two  coon-skins  here  to  buy  a  quart,  but  I've  good  dogs,  and  my 
little  boys  at  home  will  go  their  death  to  support  my  election; 
they  are  mighty  industrious  ;  they  hunt  every  night  until  twelve 
^o'clock,  but  it  keeps  the  little  fellows  mighty  busy  to  keep  me  in 
-whiskey.  When  they  get  tired,  I  takes  my  rifle  and  goes  out 
and  kills  a  wolf,  and  the  state  pays  me  three  dollars  for  the  scalp ; 
j3O  one  way  or  another  I  keep  knocking  along." 

^  Well,  Colonel,"  rejoined  Dr.  Butler,  "I  see  you  can  beat  mo 
electioneering." 

''You  doii't  call  this  electioneering,  do  you?  When  you  see 
m©  electioneering  I  go  fixed  for  it:  I've  got  a  hunting  shirt  with 
two  pockets  in  it  that  will  hold  half  a  peck  apiece;  and  I  puts 
a  bottle  in  one,  and  a  big  plug  in  the  other,  for  I  never  like  to 
leave  a  man  worse  off  'n  I  found  him.  When  I  meets  a  friend,  I 
gives  him  a  pull  at  the  bottle ;  he'll  be  mighty  apt,  before  he 
drinks,  to  throw  away  his  tobacco ;  so  when  he's  done,  I  pulls 
out  my  big  twist  and  gives  him  a  chaw.  Then  he  ain't  likely  to 
find  fault,  as  he  would  if  he'd  a  lost  his  tobacco;  and  I'll  be 
mighty  apt  to  get  his  vote,  I  reckon." 

But  this  entire  absence  of  pretense,  this  blunt  acknowledgment 
of  bluntness,  was  the  most  successful  kind  of  electioneering.  The 


314  COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 

crowd  was  in  a  roar  of  laughter  at  the  discomfiture  of  the  elo- 
quent gentleman,  and  the  rough  humor  of  the  backwoodsman. 
Nor  did  their  admiration  at  all  diminish ;  it  carried  him  safely 
through  the  election,  his  majority  over  all  three  candidates  (two 
others  had  come  out  between  March  and  August)  being  nearly 
two  hundred  and  fifty. 

He  served  this  time  in  the  Legislature  for  two  years,  1823  and 
1824.  In  the  earlier  part  of  his  term,  his  independence  of  party 
trammels  and  soldiers'  prejudices  was  manifested  by  his  vote  for 
U.  S.  Senator,  when  the  candidates  were  Senator  Miller  and  Gen. 
Jackson.  Mr.  Miller  had  served  the  state  well,  and  even  the  en- 
thusiasm of  a  soldier  for  his  old  commander,  of  a  Tennesseean 
for  Andrew  Jackson,  could  not  make  David  Crockett  vote  against 
one  whom  he  knew  to  be  well  qualified.  But  while  this  course 
preserved  his  self-respect,  it  lost  him  many  friends,  and  may  have 
assisted,  two  years  later,  to  cause  his  political  defeat.  But  ten 
years  afterwards  he  would  not  acknowledge  himself  in  the  wrong. 

The  defeat  mentioned  was  in  this  way  :  urged  to  run  for  Cong- 
ress, he  at  first  refused,  but  was  afterwards  induced  to  consent. 
The  representative  at  that  time  was  the  opposing  candidate,  and 
by  reason  of  a  factitious  popularity. arising  from  the  increase 
in  the  price  of  cotton  and  his  vote  on  the  tariff  question,  succeed- 
ed in  beating  the  "  gentlemen  from  the  cane"  by  two  votes.  Many 
persons  believed  that  the  election  had  not  been  fairly  conducted; 
the  action  of  one  officer,  at  least,  in  charge  of  a  ballot-box,  giving 
room  for  suspicion;  but  so  far  was  Col.  Crockett  from  wishing  to 
contest  the  election,  that  he  said  to  some  friends  who  represent- 
ed that  he  would  probably  secure  the  seat  in  that  way  :  "If  it  is 
not  the  wish  of  the  people,  clearly  expressed,  I  don't  want  to  serve 
them." 

Back  to  his  farm,  then,  he  went,  and  occupied  his  time  in  work- 
ing there,  and  in  his  favorite  pursuit  of  bear  hunting.  In  the  fall 
of  1825,  he  concluded  to  build  two  large  boats  and  load  them  with 
pipe-staves  for  market,  but  met  with  characteristic  interruptions. 
Working  steadily  on  until  the  bears  got  fat,  he  started  out  on  a 
hunting  tour,  in  order  to  supply  his  family  with  meat  for  the 
winter.  Hardly  has  this  been  salted  down,  and  the  hunter  set- 
tled to  boat-building  again,  when  a  neighbor,  living  some  twenty- 
five  miles  away,  came  to  ask  him  to  go  bear-hunting  in  that  part 
of  the  country.  As  may  be  imagined,  Crockett  readily  consent- 
ed, and  they  set  out  together.  During  an  absence  of  two  weeks, 


COLONEL  DAVID   CROCKETT.  815 

they  killed  fifteen  bears,  thus  supplying  the  neighbor's  family 
with  their  winter  meat.  Nor  was  this  the  only  hunt  undertaken 
for  others.  Returning  home,  he  worked  for  a  while  on  the  boats, 
and  in  getting  staves,  but  before  many  days  longed  for  the  com- 
panionship of  Betsy.  Starting  out  with  his  little  son,  the  first 
day  they  disposed  of  eight  bears.  "While  the  two  were  looking 
for  water  and  a  good  place  to  camp,  they  came  upon  a  poor  fel- 
low who  was  grubbing,  as  it  turned  out,  for  another  man,  in  or- 
der to  earn  meat  for  his  family.  Crockett,  knowing  what  hard 
and  poorly  paid  work  this  was,  induced  the  man  to  accompany 
him  on  his  hunt,  and  assist  in  salting  down  the  flesh  of  the  ani- 
mals that  they  should  kill.  During  the  week  they  killed  seven- 
teen bears,  the  grubber  being  enriched  with  over  a  thousand 
pounds  of  excellent  meat.  Hardly  had  Crockett  returned  home, 
when  he  started  out  again  to  hunt  with  a  neighbor.  Such  an  invi- 
tation was  never  refused,  whatever  reasons  there  may  have  been 
for  remaining  at  home ;  his  love  of  the  sport  and  his  obliging 
good  nature  rendered  it  impossible  to  say  no,  when  any  man  said : 
"  Come  and  hunt  bears  for  me." 

But  hunting  was  over  for  the  season,  and  Crockett  was  free  to 
attend  to  his  business.  Having  about  thirty  thousand  staves  and 
two  good  boats,  he  engaged  a  crew,  and  set  off  to  New  Orleans. 
"When  they  got  upon  the  Mississippi,  and  found  that  the  pilot  was 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  treacherous  stream,  all  were  considerably 
alarmed  ;  the  brave  hunter,  according  to  his  own  candid  confes- 
sion, believing  himself  a  little  worse  scared  than  anybody  else. 
Lashing  the  boats  together  for  greater  safety,  they  only  made 
matters  worse  by  rendering  them  unmanageable,  and  were  oblig- 
ed to  let  the  current  carry  them  whither  it  would.  Then  it  was 
that  the  superior  safety  and  pleasure  of  bear-hunting  became  more 
apparent  to  him  who  had  never  doubted.  Sitting  in  the  little 
cabin  of  the  hinder  boat  (  for  since  they  were  lashed  together 
they  went  broad-side  down  the  stream  )  he  heard  great  confusion 
among  the  crew.  The  current  had  carried  the  two  boats  against 
an  island,  where  great  quantities  of  driftwood  had  lodged,  and  the 
next  thing  would  be  the  submergence  of  the  upper  boat.  This 
was  already  turned  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  out  at  the 
hatchway,  and  the  only  other  means  of  exit,  a  hole  at  the  side, 
was  very  small.  The  efforts  of  the  crew  to  rescue  their  com- 
mander were  successful,  however,  and  he  was  pulled  through  this 
hole ;  although  his  shirt  was  torn  from  him,  and  his  body  very 


316 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 


much  abraded.  Hardly  had  he  touched  the  other  boat  when  that 
from  which  he  had  just  escaped  was  drawn  under  the  seething 
mass  of  yellow  water.  All  night  they  were  on  that  raft  of  drift- 
wood, four  of  them  bare-headed,  three  of  them  bare-footed,  our 
hero  being  one  of  these  last.  So  great  was  his  sense  of  gratitude 


SHIPWRECKED   ON  THE   RIVER. 


for  life,  however,  his  relief  at  the  escape  from  the  immediate  dan- 
ger, that  he  almost  forgot  the  discomforts  of  his  position,  and 
"felt  prime." 

Early  in  the  morning  they  hailed  a  passing  boat,  which  sent  a 
skiff  to  their  relief.  On  this  boat  they  returned  to  Memphis, 
where  a  friend  in  need  provided  them  with  clothes  and  money 
for  the  rest  of  their  journey.  Having  lost  his  boats  and  their 
lading,  all  his  clothes  but  those  that  he  wore,  and  nearly  lost  his 
life,  Crockett  arrived  at  home,  thoroughly  disgusted  .with  boat- 
ing, and  gave  himself  up  to  electioneering,  as  another  represen- 
tative in  the  national  councils  was  to  be  chosen  the  next  August. 

There  were  three  principal  candidates  in  the  district  where 
our  interest  centers ;  one  being  Col.  Alexander,  and  another,  Gen- 
eral Arnold.  These  two  gentlemen  seemed  to  regard  themselves 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT.  3lt 

as  the  only  important  candidates,  replying  to  each  other's  cam- 
paign speeches  at  considerable  length,  and  thinking  beneath 
their  notice  the  third  man,  the  bear-hunter.  But  the  people  knew 
that  as  surely  as  the  muddy  Mississippi's  alluvial  deposits  enrich- 
ed their  land,  this  untaught  son  of  the  backwoods  was  the  best 
man  to  protect  their  interests,  and  by  an  overwhelming  majority 
at  the  polls  rebuked  the  conceit  of  his  more  polished  competitors. 

His  fame  as  a  humorist  had  preceded  him,  and  if  an  anonymous 
biographer,  writing  about  1832,  is  to  be  believed,  hotel-keepers 
and  transportation  companies  considered  him  such  an  attraction 
that  each  was  anxious  to  secure  his  patronage.  But  although  his 
ready  humor  was  the  foundation  of  his  fame,  his  time  at  the  na- 
tional capitol  was  not  spent  idly.  Faithful,  hard  work  for  his 
constituents  was  his  idea  of  his  duty,  and  he  endeavored  to  carry 
it  out.  The  details  would  be  of  interest  only  to  the  historian  of 
that  section  of  Tennessee  at  that  particular  period  ;  but  the  gene- 
ral fact  is  of  importance  to  his  biographer.  His  efforts  were 
chiefly  directed  to  those  internal  improvements  which  he  knew 
were  so  much  needed  in  his  district,  and  it  was  a  great  disap- 
pointment to  find  that  G-en.  Jackson  was  not  in  sympathy  with 
him.  Coming  from  his  backwoods  cabin  in  Tennessee  to  be  a 
courted  guest  in  "Washington  society,  where  the  originality  of  his 
character  was  fully  appreciated,  received  at  the  White  House  by 
the  Chief  Executive,  the  sudden  change  did  not  dazzle  him.  Close 
observation  of  others  taught  him  the  manners  of  those  in  his  new 
position,  and  the  graces  of  the  society  gentleman  sat  easily  upon 
the  bear  hunter.  Still,  through  all,  the  fact  was  apparent  that 
this  polish  intensified  the  luster  of  a  true  jewel,  instead  of  giving 
false  value  to  a  pebble.  "  A  man's  a  man  for  a*  that/'  and 
he  defended  the  manhood  in  him  by  opposing  his  old  commander 
whom  he  thought  in  the  wrong.  This  was  highly  resented  by 
his  constituents,  and  many  politicians  and  newspapers  devoted  to 
Jackson  so  exaggerated  his  defection  that  at  the  next  election  he 
was  defeated  by  a  small  majority. 

He  had  served  two  consecutive  terms  in  Congress,  returning 
to  the  plow  after  each  session  as  calmly  as  ever  did  Cincinnatus 
or  our  own  Washington;  and  when  the  verdict  of  the  people  was 
made  known  to  him  after  his  election  in  1830,  he  coolly  accepted 
the  situation,  and  went  on  with  his  work.  Every  effort  had  been 
made  by  Jackson's  worshipers  to  secure  his  defeat  at  this  time, 
but  success  did  not  satisfy  them.  Gerrymandering  secured  such 


318  COLONEL  DAVID   CROCKETT. 

a  division  of  his  old  district  at  the  next  session  of  the  Legislature 
that  it  seemed  to  them  that  the  next  election  would  give  them  an 
easy  victory ;  but  they  reckoned  without  their  host.  Their  pre- 
vious success  had  been  partly  due  to  their  practice  of  making  ap- 
pointments for  Crockett  to  speak,  and  carefully  keeping  it  from 
him;  at  the  time  set,  his  opponents  would  rise  and  say  to  the 
crowd  that  had  assembled,  that  he  had  refused  to  speak,  being 
afraid  of  the  result.  He  only  heard  of  their  pursuing  this  course 
when  it  was  too  late  to  counteract  it,  and  the  result  was  his  de- 
feat. Before  the  next  election,  however,  the  minds  of  men  were 
calmer,  and  ready  to  listen  to  both  sides  of  the  question ;  and 
the  result  was  an  easy  victory  for  Crockett. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  Washington  after  the  beginning  of  his 
third  term  when  his  physician  advised  him  to  take  a  pleasure- 
trip  for  the  benefit  of  his  health.  So  well  had  he  been  pleased 
with  his  brother  members  from  the  northern  part  of  the  country 
that  he  determined  to  see  them  in  their  homes.  Baltimore  was 
visited  on  his  journey  northward,  the  strange  sight  of  a  railway 
train  here  meeting  his  eyes  for  the  first  time.  Approaching  Phil- 
adelphia by  water,  he  was  on  deck  when  three  flags  were  run  up. 
He  enquired  the  meaning. 

"  O,"  said  the  captain,  "  Fd  promised  some  friends  to  let  them 
know  if  you  were  on  board." 

To  the  man  who,  on  reaching  Baltimore,  had  recognized  a 
great  city  as  a  place  where  any  one  would  be  made  to  feel  his 
own  unimportance,  this  was  a  revelation.  The  idea  that  any  one 
should  care  about  his  coming  to  this  strange  place  was  astonish- 
ing. As  the  boat  neared  the  shore,  he  saw  one  vast  "  sea  of  up- 
turned faces  •"  a  gesture  from  the  captain  pointed  out  to  them  the 
lion  of  the  day  and  a  rousing  cheer  for  Davy  Crockett  saluted 
his  ears. 

"  Give  us  the  hand  of  an  honest  man,"  cried  the  people,  crowd- 
ing around  him  as  he  stepped  on  shore.  But  this  recognition  was 
not  all  that  awaited  him.  The  most  cordial  hospitality  of  the 
Quaker  City  was  extended  to  him  by  her  most  honored  sons.  The 
anti-Jackson  man  from  Tennessee  was  hailed  with  delight  by  the 
Whigs  of  the  North,  who  greeted  his  defection  from  his  party  as 
an  evidence  of  that  party's  weakness.  Speech  after  speech  from 
him  was  demanded  by  the  crowd  wherever  he  went,  and  although 
he  often  tried  to  escape  their  importunity,  his  good-nature  al- 
ways yielded.  Some  gentlemen  presented  him  with  a  seal  val- 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT.  319 

Tied  at  forty  dollars  ;  the  device  being  two  race-horses,  evidently 
at  the  top  of  their  speed,  and  the  motto  that  to  which  our  hero 
had  clung,  whether  bear-hunting  or  law-making,  whether  cling- 
ing, half-naked,  through  the  winter  night,  to  a  raft  of  driftwood 
in  the  Mississippi,  or  sitting,  an  honored  guest,  at  the  President's 
table  :  "  Go  ahead."  Tradition  has  it,  that  when  a  suitor  of  his 
daughter  approached  him  by  letter,  about  this  time,  he  replied : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  received  your  letter.     Gro  ahead. 

DAVID  CROCKETT." 

Whether  this  were  known  at  the  time  or  not,  the  motto  was 
generally  recognized  as  suited  to  the  man,  and  the  seal  was  cop- 
ied by  many  of  his  fellow  Congressmen.  A  club  of  young  Whigs, 
desiring  to  present  him  with  a  handsome  rifle,  secured  from  him 
directions  as  to  the  size  and  kind  that  he  preferred,  and  the  or- 
der was  given  to  the  manufacturer.  Dinners  were  tendered  him 
in  abundance,  and  everywhere  the  greatest  eagerness  to  entertain 
him  prevailed.  In  New  York  the  same  flattering  reception 
awaited  him,  and  Boston  did  not  lag  behind  her  sister  cities.  An 
invitation  to  visit  Harvard,  however,  he  flatly  refused  to  accept. 
The  authorities  of  that  institution  had  recently  conferred  upon 
President  Jackson  the  title  of  doctor  of  laws  ;  Crockett  claimed 
to  possess  no  degree  and  to  wish  for  none  u  but  a  slight  degree  of 
common-sense/7  one  such  doctor  was  enough  for  the  state  5  the 
people  of  his  district  interpreted  LL. D.  as  "lazy,  lounging 
dunce ;"  and  he  had  no  mind  to  run  the  risk  of  going  to  Cambridge, 
although  he  would  spell  with  any  of  them  as  far  as  "  crucifix," 
where  he  had  left  off  at  school. 

Returning  to  Washington,  he  served  the  remainder  of  his  term, 
and  started  home  in  good  spirits  with  the  handsome  rifle  which 
had  been  presented  to  him.  His  course  was  rather  a  round-about 
one,  as  he  took  Philadelphia,  Pittsburgh  and  Louisville  on  the 
way,  but  he  was  none  the  less  glad  to  get  home  to  his  little  cab- 
in in  the  cane — his  own  home,  his  own  land,  his  own  beloved 
ones.  Here  he  lived,  until  the  congressional  campaign  of  1835 
opened,  when  he  again  took  the  field  against  a  Jackson  man. 
This  was  Adam  Huntsman,  a  crippled  soldier,  whose  services  were 
made  much  of  to  the  voters  of  the  district.  This  nomination  was 
secured  by  a  practical  joke,  which  illustrates  the  ready  wit  of 
the  great  hunter. 

Strolling  up  to  a  political  meeting  one  day,  with  his  rifle  on 
his  shoulder,  Crockett  wa.s  soon  addressing  the  crowd.  The  free 


320  COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 

and  independent  voters  lost  no  time  in  informing  him  that  lis- 
tening to  speeches  was  dry  work,  and  that  there  was  plenty  of 
liquor  in  a  shanty  near  by.  This  had  been  built  by  a  Yankee, 
and  stocked  for  that  special  occasion.  So  experienced  a  canvass- 
er as  Crockett  took  the  hint  immediately,  and  leading  the  way 
to  Job  Snell ing's  bar,  called  for  a  quart;  that  worthy  called  his 
attention  to  a  sign :  "  Pay  to-day,  trust  to-morrow,"  and  refused 
to  fill  the  order  without  the  money.  This  Crockett  did  not  have, 
and  the  crowd  that  had  gathered  around  him  rapidly  dispersed 
to  seek  his  better  provided  rival.  But  although  he  was  without 
money,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  ready  substitute.  Plung- 
ing into  the  woods,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  see,  in  a  very 
short  time,  a  fine  fat  coon.  A  well-aimed  shot  secured  the  prize, 
and  back  to  the  crowd  he  went.  A  coon-skin  is  not  money,  but 
was  then  and  there  recognized  as  the  equivalent  of  a  quart  of 
rum,  so  that  when  Crockett  threw  it  upon  the  rough  counter, 
Snelling,  without  any  hesitation,  set  out  a  bottle.  This  was  soon 
disposed  of,  and  the  crowd  listened  to  the  speaker.  They  soon 
became  clamorous  for  more  liquor,  however,  and  Davy,  reflect- 
ing how  long  his  speech  must  last  if  he  had  to  go  and  kill  a  coon 
so  often,  led  the  way  to  the  bar.  His  quick  eye  and  ready  wit 
found  him  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty ;  Snelling  had  thrown  the 
coon  skin  under  the  counter,  and  Crockett,  drawing  it  thence  by 
the  tail,  which  protruded  beyond  the  logs,  gravely  presented  it 
in  payment  for  a  second  quart.  Job  was  not  at  all  popular  in  that 
country,  as  he  was  always  on  the  alert  to  make  money  oif  the  peo- 
ple, and  this  they  did  not  relish ;  so,  though  the  trick  was  seen  by 
many,  no  one  betrayed  the  joker.  The  story  circulated  through 
the  assembly,  and  made  the  liquor  all  the  better.  Again  and 
again  did  they  drink,  the  same  coon-skin  serving  for  payment, 
until,  at  the  close  of  the  day,  ten  quarts  of  rum  had  been  con- 
sumed. The  story  went  the  rounds  of  the  district,  and  the  people 
concluded  that  a  man  sharp  enough  to  trick  Job  Snelling  was  a 
better  man  to  look  after  their  interests  than  any  war-worn  vet- 
eran that  ever  lost  a  leg.  After  the  election,  Crockett  went  pri- 
vately to  Snelling  and  offered  him  the  price  of  the  rum. 

"Wai,  neow,  Colonel,"  responded  that  honest  individual,  "I 
guess  I  won't  take  your  money.  You  see,  I  like  to  be  tricked 
once  in  a  while ;  it  keeps  me  from  gittin'  to  think  I'm  tew  all-fir- 
ed smart." 

JEe  had  charged  the  nine  quarts  to  the  other  candidate,  who 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT.  321 

paid  the  bill,  not  knowing  exactly  how  much  might  have  been 
drunk  at  his  expense. 

Contrary  to  all  expectation,  however,  Crockett  was  beaten  by 
over  two  hundred  votes.  This  was  attributed  by  him  to  unfair- 
ness of  the  judges,  and  to  bribery  by  certain  enthusiastic  Jackson 
men.  Even  at  that  early  day,  the  charge  of  corruption  was  not 
unheard  or  unfounded  ;  and  even  the  President  could  stoop  to 
electioneer  for  a  dependent.  Nor  was  the  unsuccessful  candi- 
date at  all  backward  at  expressing  his  opinions  to  his  late  consti- 
tuents ;  he  told  them  what  he  thought  about  the  fairness  of  the 
election,  and  warned  them  of  the  ruin  towards  which  the  country 
was  going,  as  directed  by  Jackson  und  the  "  Little  Flying  Dutch- 
man," Yan  Buren;  concluding  by  telling  them  to  go  to — Hades 
(  only  he  didn't  use  the  Greek  )  and  he  would  go  to  Texas. 

Settling  up  his  affairs  as  well  as  he  could,  and  leaving  his  fam- 
ily well  provided  with  food,  he  started  out  with  his  trusty  rifle, 
to  join  in  the  struggle  of  the  Texan  patriots  for  freedom.  Cor- 
dially received  and  well  entertained  at  Little  Hock,  where  he 
stopped  for  a  few  days,  he  proceeded  on  his  journey.  Embark- 
ing on  a  steamboat  upon  the  Eed  Eiver,  he  watched  a  game  of 
thimble-rig,  and  finally  made  a  bet  with  the  trickster.  "Winning 
this,  he  refused  to  play  any  more,  but  by  degrees  acquired  con- 
siderable influence  over  the  man.  Crockett  learned  that  he  had 
been  educated  "  as  a  gentleman,"  and  suddenly  thrown  on  his 
own  resources.  One  disreputable  way  of  earning  a  livelihood 
had  succeeded  another,  until  now,  when  he  earned  a  scanty  living 
by  this  mode  of  cheating.  Crockett  took  him  to  task  in  a  friend- 
ly manner,  and  tried  to  shame  him  out  of  his  evil  practices,  but 
he  answered  that  it  it  was  of  no  use  to  try;  he  could  not  live  like 
an  honest  man. 

"  Then  die  like  a  brave  one,"  exclaimed  his  enthusiastic  men- 
tor. "Most  men  are  remembered  as  they  died,  and  not  as  they 
lived.  Come  with  me  to  Texas;  cut  aloof  from  your  degrading 
habits  and  associates  here,  and  in  fighting  with  the  Texans  for 
their  freedom,  regain  your  own." 

Starting  up,  and  striding  two  or  three  times  across  the  room, 
the  outcast  stopped  before  his  friend,  and  answered,  with  an 
oath : 

"  Fll  be  a  man  again — live  honestly,  or  die  bravely.  I'll  go 
with  you  to  Texas." 

,He  held  to  this  resolution,  and  Crockett  being  determined,  as 


322 


COLONEL  DAVID    CROCKETT. 


usual,  to  "  go  ahead,"  they  set  out  in  company  early  in  the  morn- 
ing after  their  landing.  Stopping  at  night  at  a  small  tavern, 
they  noticed,  leaning  against  a  tree,  what  might  be  called  a  back- 
woods dandy.  This  was  the  "  Bee-hunter,"  introduced  to  them 
more  favorably  by  the  little  incident  that  occurred  early  in  the 


morning.  A  blustering,  swaggering  fellow,  who  imagined  that 
the  young  man  had,  on  some  previous  occasion,  insulted  him,  ap- 
proached him  with  the  most  offensive  expressions.  The  Bee- 
hunter  gave  him  no  satisfaction  for  a  long  time,  but  at  last, 
springing  upon  him,  carried  him  to  the  pump,  and  there 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 


all  the  fight  out  of  him  by  a  stream  of  water.  With  this  hero 
Crockett  and  Thimblerig  concluded  to  travel,  especially  when 
they  found  that  he  was  an  excellent  guide  across  the  prairies. 

The  trio  was  soon  separated,  however;  the  Bee-hunter  rode  off 
suddenly,  and  apparently  without  cause  \  Crockett,  soon  after- 
ward, saw  a  herd  of  buffaloes,  and  gave  chase,  and  poor  Thim- 


DESPERATE   FIGHT  WITH  A  COUGAR. 


blerig  was  left  alone  on  the  prairie.  The  buffaloes  proved  too 
swift  for  Crockett's  mustang,  and  although  he  might  have  easily 
retraced  his  steps,  it  was  always  his  principle  to  go  ahead,  and 
he  would  not  turn  back.  Concluding  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  him  to  return  that  night,  he  looked  about  him  for  a 
lodging  place,  and  had  selected  the  leafy  branches  of  a  tree,  pros- 
trated by  a  recent  storm,  when  a  low  growl  warned  him  that  it 


324  COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 

was  already  occupied.  In  a  moment  more  an  immense  Mexican 
cougar  showed  itself.  Finding  a  ball  from  his  rifle  produced 
but  little  effect,  Crockett  clubbed  his  gun,  but  all  his  strength 
was  not  sufficient  for  the  destruction  of  the  animal.  Seizing  his 
hunting-knife,  he  slashed  away  at  the  creature,  that,  mad  with 
the  wound,  fought  as  only  a  cougar  could  •  but  at  last  it  was 
stretched  dead  at  his  feet.  Hardly  had  this  enemy  been  despatched 
than  he  was  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  a  large  party  of  Indians ; 
but  they  proved  friendly,  and  guided  him  back  to  the  route.  As 
they  approached  a  camp,  they  saw,  seated  by  the  fire,  a  solitary 
man  busily  engaged  in  some  absorbing  pastime.  Drawing  nearer, 

Crockett  recognized  Thimble- 
rig  at  his  old  occupation.  The 
chief  sounded  the  war-whoop, 
the  warriors  echoed  it,  and 
poor  Thimblerig  sprang  to  his 
feet  in  terror.  Crockett  reassur- 
ed him,  and  the  Indians  rode 
off,  the  chief  happy  in  the  gift 
of  a  bowie-knife  from  a  white 
man  whom  he  knew  by  the  ad- 
venture with  the  cougar  to  be 
a  brave  and  skillful  hunter. 

The  Bee-hunter,  Thimblerig 

GENERAL  cos.  *  said,  had  returned  laden  with 

honey ;  his  apparently  inexplicable  conduct  being  explained  by  his 
having  seen  a  single  bee  winging  its  way  to  the  hive ;  he  was  now 
hunting,  in  order  to  obtain  meat  for  their  supper,  and  soon  re- 
turned to  the  camp  with  a  wild  turkey.  Having  cooked  this,  they 
were  at  supper  with  two  others  who  had  joined  their  party,  when 
a  company  of  fifteen  or  twenty  horsemen  appeared  at  a  distance. 
The  announcement  from  one  of  the  strangers  that  these  were 
Mexicans  was  followed  by  his  description  of  them  as  ruffianly 
cowards.  This  was  borne  out  by  their  conduct  when  the  Ameri- 
cans returned  their  first  fire.  Flying  like  a  cloud  before  the  wind, 
they  were  pursued  in  hot  haste,  but  succeeded  in  eluding  the 
chase.  Being  now  in  sight  of  the  independent  flag  flying  over  the 
fortress  of  the  Alamo,  our  three  heroes  bent  their  way  thither, 
and  were  welcomed  by  the  shouts  of  the  patriots. 

The  garrison  of  only  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  was 
commanded  by  Col.  Travis,  the  famous  Col.  Bowie  being  alsg 


COLONEL   DAVID    CROCKETT. 


325 


present.  The  Mexican  general,  Santa  Anna,  was  extremely  anx- 
ious to  obtain  possession  of  the  fortress  again,  as  he  considered 
its  surrender  to  the  Texans  early  in  December,  1835,  extremely 
disgraceful,  although  General  Cos  had  been  allowed  to  state  his 
own  terms  of  capitulation.  The  Americans  even  then  were  ex- 
pecting an  attack,  an  anticipation  only  too  well  realized.  "Wan- 
dering hunters  brought  information  of  the  movements  of  an  at- 
tacking force.  February  22,  1836,  about  sixteen  hundred  Mexi- 
cans, headed  by  Santa  Anna  himself,  approached  within  two 


STORMING   OF   THE  ALAMO. 

miles  of  the  Alamo.  The  scouts  reported  that  the  assailants  had 
endeavored  to  excite  the  Indians  to  hostilities  against  the  Amer- 
icans, but  that  the  Comanches  held  the  Mexicans  in  such  con- 
tempt that  these  efforts  were  of  no  avail.  Early  on  the  morning 
of  the  twenty-third,  the  enemy  came  in  sight,  marching  in  reg- 
ular order,  and  trying  to  display  their  force  to  the  greatest  pos- 
sible advantage,  to  terrify  the  garrison.  But  men  who  take  up 
arms  to  fight  for  liberty  are  not  easily  frightened,  and  the  gar- 
rison withdrew  in  good  order  from  the  town  to  the  citadel,  re- 
solving to  defend  it  to  the  last.  All  their  stores  had  been  taken 
there  on  the  first  alarm.  The  Texan  flag  was  raised — thirteen 
stripes  of  red  and  white  alternating  on  a  blue  ground,  with  a 
large  white  star  and  the  word  Texas  in  the  center, 


326 


COLONEL    DAVID    CROCKETT. 


The  enemy  marched  into  the  town  under  a  flag  whose  bloody 
hue  proclaimed  the  mercUess  treatment  that  would  be  the  lot  of 
the  patriots,  if  they  surrendered.  A  messenger  came  in  the  af- 
ternoon to  demand  an  unconditional  and  immediate  surrender, 
but  was  answered  by  a  cannon-shot.  The  Mexicans  replied  to 
this  by  a  heavy  fire,  which  was  continued  for  many  days.  The 
Texan  sharp-shooters  made  considerable  havoc  among  the  Mex- 


DEFENCE   OF   THE  ALAMO. 


icans,  and  wore  unhurt  by  their  cannonading.  Daily  reinforce- 
ments came  to  the  enemy,  but  the  garrison,  hoping  for  aid  from 
two  places,  Goliad  and  Refugio,  to  which  messengers  had  been 
sent,  kept  up  hope.  On  the  third  of  March,  however,  they  de- 
spaired of  assistance  from  without,  and  Col.  Travis  exhorted 
them,  in  case  the  enemy  should  carry  the  fort,  to  fight  to  the  last 
gasp,  and  render  the  victory  as  serious  to  the  victors  as  to  the 
vanquished.  Three  hearty  cheers  approved  this  course. 

On  the  following  day  the  messenger  who  had  been  despatched 
to  Goliad  and  Refugio  was  seen  running  toward  the  fort  hard 
pressed  by  half  a  dozen  of  the  Mexican  cavalry.  .Crockett,  the 
Bee-hunter  and  two  others,  sallied  out  to  his  relief,  and  after  a 
slight  skirmish  with  the  pursuers,  chased  them  so  far,  in  the  ar^ 


COLONEL  DAVID   CROCKED.  32? 

dor  of  the  moment,  that  their  retreat  was  cut  off  by  another  body 
of  cavalry,  which  got  between  them  and  the  fort.  There  was  no 
course  open  to  the  Americans  but  to  fight  their  way  through. 
"G-o  ahead  I"  shouted  Col.  Crockett.  There  were  about  twenty 
of  the  Mexicans,  and  they  fought  savagely  until  a  larger  detach- 
ment issued  from  the  fort,  when  they  retreated,  leaving  eight 
dead  upon  the  field.  The  messenger  and  the  Bee-hunter  were 
mortally  wounded,  the  former  dying  before  they  entered  the 
fort.  The  latter,  whose  songs  and  jests  had  so  often  raised  the 
spirits  of  the  garrison,  as  his  manly,  unassuming  piety  had  ex- 
cited their  admiration,  died  about  midnight,  a  sigh  for  his  be- 
trothed escaping  him  as  he  sang: 

"  But  toom  cam'  the  saddle,  all  bludy  to  see, 
And  hame  cam'  the  steed,  but  hame  never  cam'  he." 

It  was  the  last  song  she  had  sung  to  him,  before  he  left  her  for 
the  Alamo. 

The  autobiography  of  David  Crockett  is  the  principal  source 
of  information  in  regard  to  these  last  days  in  the  fortress.  Un- 
der the  date  of  March  5,  1836,  we  find  this  entry : 

"Pop,  pop,  pop!  Boom,  boom,  boom!  throughout  the  day. 
No  time  for  memorandums  now.  G-o  ahead  !  Liberty  and  inde- 
pendence forever ! " 

That  is  the  last.  Before  daybreak,  on  the  sixth,  'the  whole 
Mexican  force  assaulted  the  fortress,  Santa  Anna  commanding. 
The  battle  raged  fiercely  until  daylight,  when  only  six  men,  of 
whom  Col.  Crockett  was  one,  were  left  alive  in  the  fort.  These 
were  surrounded,  and,  knowing  resistance  was  useless,  were 
compelled  to  yield.  Gen.  Castrillon,  to  whom  they  surren- 
dered, was  brave  but  not  cruel,  and  wishing  to  save  the  prison- 
ers, went  to  Santa  Anna  to  ask  for  orders.  "No  quarter/'  had 
been  the  command,  but  Castrillon  hoped  that  these  few  might  be 
spared.  With  steady  and  firm  step  Col.  Crockett  followed  the 
humaner  Mexican  to  his  superior's  presence,  looking  full  and 
fearlessly  into  the  cruel  commander's  eye. 

"Your  excellency,"  said  Castrillon,  "here  are  six  prisoners  I 
have  taken  alive ;  how  shall  I  dispose  of  them  ?  " 

Looking  at  the  general  fiercely,  Santa  Anna  answered,  in  a 
violent  rage : 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  how  to  dispose  of  them?  Why  do  you 
bring  them  to  me  ?  " 

The  murderous  crew  around  him  wanted  no  other  orders  to 


COLONEL  DAVID  CROCKETT. 


329 


fall  upon  the  defenseless  prisoners.  Col.  Crockett  sprang  for- 
ward like  a  tiger  at  the  ruffian,  but  a  dozen  swords  were  sheath- 
ed in  his  heart.  "Without  a  groan,  with  a  frown  upon  his  brow, 
but  a  smile  on  his  lips,  he  died. 

This  is,  for  us,  the  end  of  the  story.  "With  that  battle,  when 
the  Texans,  crying  "  Eemember  the  Alamo,"  swept  down  like  a 
hurricane  upon  the  Mexicans,  with  their  final  triumph  in  the 
struggle  for  independence,  and  subsequent  annexation  to  the 
United  States,  we  have  nothing  to  do.  The  sixth  of  March,  1836, 
ends  the  life  of  an  honest  man,  who  served  his  country  as  best 
he  could,  who  never  refused  to  serve  a  fellow-creature,  and  who 
died  fighting  for  another  people. 

"  Each  of  the  heroes  around  thee  had  fought  for  his  land  and  his  line, 
But  thou  hast  fought  for  a  stranger,  in  hate  of  a  wrong  not  thine." 


MOiNTJMENT  TO  THE  DEFENDERS  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XHL 
GEISTEBAL  SAM  HOUSTON. 

THE    AUSTINS. 

r  I  iHE  first  white  men  who  descended  the  Mississippi  doubtless 
JL  looked  with  surprise  upon  the  stream,  when,  for  the  first  time, 
they  saw  a  turbid  flood  mingling  with  its  crystal  waters.  Side  by 
side  the  golden  river  of  the  western  mountains  and  the  blue  wa- 
ters from  the  north  flow  for  miles,  blending  at  last  into  one 
stream,  truly  the  Father  of  Waters.  The  swift  current  carried 
them  on,  and  the  meeting  of  the  two  rivers  was  well-nigh  forgot- 
ten. The  mystery  was  not  to  be  solved  by  men  who  had  never 
ascended  the  Missouri  to  its  native  mountains,  and  in  ignorance 
of  its  nature  they  passed  on. 

When  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life  unites  his  fortunes  to  those  of 
a  state  struggling  for  independence,  and  becomes  a  leader  in 
peace  and  war,  the  earlier  fortunes  of  each  must  be  followed,  in 
order  that  their  union  and  its  results  may  be  understood.  As  the 
color  of  the  Missouri  is  given  to  the  lower  Mississippi,  so  the  hero 
affects  the  time  in  which  he  lives;  and  the  history  of  the  state 
gives  him  another  dignity  than  he  would  have  had  alone,  as  sure- 
ly as  the  northern  stream  contributes  to  increase  the  volume  of 
the  mightier  flood.  If  we  would  form  a  clear  mental  picture, 
then,  of  the  life  of  Sam  Houston,  let  us  first  turn  to  the  early 
history  of  Texas. 

At  the  cession  of  the  territory  of  Louisiana  to  the  United 
States  in  1803,  Texas  became  debatable  ground :  claimed  by  our 
government  as  a  part  of  the  purchase;  claimed  by  the  Spanish 
authorities  as  never  having  been  ceded  to  France,  and  hence  not 
to  be  sold  by  the  rulers  of  that  country.  The  United  States  did 
not  give  up  claim  to  it  until  1819,  when  a  treaty  was  made  by 
which  Texas  was  relinquished  to  Spain,  and  Florida  sold  to  the 
United  States.  The  foundations  of  the  independence  of  Texas 
were  laid  before  Mexico,  of  which  it  formed  a  part,  had  thrown 


THE    ATJSTIN3.  331 

off  the  Spanish  yoke,  and  it  was  only  as  a  Spanish  subject  that 
the  first  settler  of  English  descent  could  go  there. 

Moses  Austin,  a  native  of  Connecticut,  had  settled  west  of  the 
Mississippi  in  1798,  owning  allegiance  to  the  government  then  ex- 
isting there.  Procuring  from  the  Spanish  officials  a  grant  of 
the  lead  mines  of  Potosi,  sixty-five  miles  south  of  Saint  Louis 
and  forty  miles  west  of  Ste.  G-enevieve,  he  remained  there  con- 
tentedly for  twenty  years.  [Reduced  to  comparative  poverty  by 
the  failure  of  the  bank  of  Missouri,  he  projected  apian  for  colon- 
izing parts  of  Texas  with  emigrants  from  the  United  States. 
G-oing  to  San  Antonio,  the  capital  of  the  province,  in  the  fall  of 

1820,  to  further  his  plans,  the  governor  ordered  him  to  leave  the 
country,  or  suffer  imprisonment.     As  he  left  the  office,  naturally 
discouraged  by  this  unfriendly  reception,  he  met  Baron  de  Bas- 
trop,  an  alcalde  of  the  city  who  had  come  to  Mexico  on  a  special 
mission  from  the  King  of  Spain,  and  choosing  to  make  it  his 
home,  had  acquired  considerable  influence.     He  had  known  Aus- 
tin before,  and  readily  lent  his  voice  to  the  scheme,  obtaining  a 
more  favorable  hearing   from  Gov.  Martinez.     A  petition  was 
drawn  up  and  signed  by  the  local  authorities,  praying  the  gov- 
ernment to  allow  Austin  to  bring  three  hundred  families  into 
Texas ;  but  "  the  law's  delay"  was  such  that  no  immediate  action 
was  taken  upon  it,  and  Austin  returned  to  his  Missouri  home.  So 
well  was  he  assured  of  success,  however,  that  he  immediately 
commenced  preparations  for  removal.     In  the  succeeding  spring 
(1821)  he  received  information  that  the  desired  permission  had 
been  granted,  but  his  energy  was  subdued  as  never  before :  a 
cold  had  settled  upon  his  lungs,  and  a  few  days  after  he  died. 

The  scheme  of  planting  a  colony  in  Texas  was  left  as  a  legacy 
to  his  son,  Stephen  Fuller  Austin,  who  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
eight  had  already  been  a  member  of  the  territorial  Legislature 
of  Missouri,  and  a  circuit  judge  in  Arkansas.  To  this  latter  ter- 
ritory he  had  removed  to  promote  his  father's  plans  by  raising 
corn  and  other  provisions  to  supply  the  train  of  emigrants  on 
their  way.  To  him,  therefore,  the  bequest  was  not  unexpected 
or  unwelcome,  and  his  best  energies  were  bent  to  accomplish  the 
task.  Towards  Texas  he  bent  his  steps,  meeting  upon  the  way 
the  commissioners  sent  to  conduct  his  father  to  the  land  grant- 
ed. Austin,  the  commissioners  and  fourteen  colonists  made  up 
the  party  that  arrived  in  San  Antonio  on  the  twelfth  of  August, 

1821,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  select  the  lands.     The  fertile 


(THE  AUSTINS". 

region  watered  by  the  Brazos,  Colorado  and  G-uadalupe  Elvers 
was  chosen,  and  Col.  Austin  returned  to  New  Orleans  to  ad- 
vertise for  colonists.  Such  were  not  difficult  to  find,  but  on  his 
return  a  new  trouble  arose.  The  change  in  the  government  of 
Mexico  necessitated  a  journey  to  the  capital,  to  secure  a  confirm- 
ation of  his  grant.  The  new  government  was  anxious  to  encour- 
age immigration,  and  made  even  better  terms  than  Spain  •  and 
Feb.  18,  1823,  this  grant  was  confirmed. 

Mexico  was  just  beginning  to  establish  her  reputation  as  a 
mother  of  revolutionists;  and  independence  having  been  secured 
by  the  first  rebellion,  a  second  speedily  followed.  This  detained 
Austin  for  a  long  time  at  the  capital,  and  when  he  reached  the 
colony  he  had  been  absent  a  year.  Of  course  this  did  not  tend 
to  reassure  the  immigrants,  some  of  whom  had  returned  home. 
Encouraged  by  the  presence  of  the  leader,  and  ofDeBastrop, 
who  had  been  appointed  their  Land  Commissioner,  the  town  of 
San  Felipe  do  Austin  was  laid  out,  and  land  having  been  assigned 
to  each  settler  in  proportion  to  his  needs,  all  set  to  work.  This 
was  a  time  to  severely  test  the  leader's  ability,  but,  weighed  in 
the  balance,  he  was  not  found  wanting.  Everywhere  his  help 
was  given;  from  the  "  raising"  of  a  house  or  the  clearing  of  a 
corn-field,  to  the  framing  of  a  code  of  laws,  the  task  received  his 
assistance.,  At  once  civil  governor,  military  commander  and 
judge  of  their  only  court,  he  was  tne  father  of  the  colony,  and 
looked  well  to  his  offspring. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  settlement  made  under  his  direction. 
At  different  periods  between  this  first  immigration  and  the 
year  1835,  more  than  fifteen  hundred  persons  had  come  to  Texas 
under  his  direction.  The  colony  had  its  own  difficulties,  how- 
ever, with  which  to  contend.  One  of  these  was  the  rapidly  in- 
creasing number  of  immigrants;  it  became  impossible  for  the 
settlers  already  there  to  raise  enough  grain  for  all  until  the  la- 
test comers  should  have  time  to  plant  and  gather  a  crop,  and 
often  they  must  clothe  themselves  in  skins,  and  live  upon  game. 

But  their  chief  trouble  was  with  the  Indians.  Their  hunting 
parties  must  be  large,  to  guard  against  sudden  attack  from  the 
savages  ;  while  a  sufficient  number  must  be  left  at  home  to  pro- 
tect the  settlement.  The  savages  had  been  exasperated  against 
the  whites  by  the  conduct  of  Lafitte.  This  notorious  pirate  had 
for  many  years  been  master  of  the  Mexican  and  Texas  coast, 
when,  in  1817,  he  made  G-alveston  Island  his  headquarters,  and 


THE    AUSTINS. 


333 


gathered  around  him  a  thousand  followers.  Preying  upon  the 
Spanish  and  American  commerce  alike,  they  paid  no  heed  to  the 
rights  of  any  man.  The  savages,  exasperated  by  their  kidnap- 


LAFITTE,    THE  PIRATE. 

ping  of  squaws,  assaulted  their  encampment  many  times,  but  were 
as  often  driven  back  with  terrible  slaughter.  Becoming  at  last 
insupportable,  the  United  States  sent  out  an  expedition  to  break 
up  the  nest,  and  the  pirates  were  driven  to  Yucatan.  Having 


334  *HE    AUSTINS. 


cursed  Texas  with  their  presence  for  so  many  years,  they  left 
her  a  legacy  of  hatred  by  the  Indian  for  the  white  man. 

For  two  or  three  years  the  Indians  continued  to  annoy  the  col- 
onists, not  by  attacks  upon  the  town,  but  by  robberies  and  mur- 
ders committed  whenever  the  weakness  of  a  traveling  party 
tempted  them.  Stories  are  tiresome  when  all  have  the  same  in- 
cidents and  the  same  results,  so  we  need  not  touch  upon  the  con- 
flicts between  the  settlers  and  the  savages,  ending  by  the  latter's 
pledge  not  to  come  east  of  San  Antonio.  So  well  had  the  lesson 
of  submission  been  taught  that  this  treaty  was  never  violated. 

In  1823-4,  the  surrounding  country  was  much  infested  with 
robbers,  who  often  concealed  that  crime  by  murder;  but  a  sever- 
ity only  justified  by  the  circumstances,  struck  a  wholesome  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  the  highwaymen. 

Austin's  was  not  the  only  colony  brought  into  Texas  from  the 
United  States,  but  the  other*  had  not  the  same  advantages.  San 
Felipe  was  surrounded  by  a  vast  tract  of  unclaimed  lands,  and 
when  these  were  granted  to  Austin,  there  was  no  man  to  dispute 
his  right  ;  but  the  rest  were  located  by  the  government  upon 
lands  claimed  by  others,  and  those  fomented  the  popular  feeling 
of  the  Mexicans  against  the  Americans. 

The  colony  most  unfortunate  in  this  respect  was  that  of  which 
Hadjden  Edwards  was  empresario,  or  leader.  After  land  had 
been  granted  to  the  settlers  and  improved  by  them,  old  Mexican 
claims  were  revived,  and  the  officials,  jealous  of  the  rapidly  in- 
creasing element,  decided  invariably  against  the  Americans. 
The  difficulty  soon  culminated  in  war,  and  the  Fredonians  al- 
lied themselves  with  the  Indians,  through  the  agency  of  John 
Dunn  Hunter.  This  was  a  white  man  who  had  been  captured  by 
the  Cherokees  when  a  child,  and  who  had  obtained  almost  para- 
mount influence  in  the  tribe.  These  allies  were  secured  by  a  prom- 
ise that  when  success  had  been  obtained,  Texas  should  be  divid- 
ed equally  between  the  Indians  and  Americans  ;  for  the  Fredo- 
nians aimed  at  no  less  a  prize  than  the  political  independence  of 
Mexico.  But  Texas  was  not  yet  ready  for  self-government;  the 
Mexican  forces,  under  Col.  Bean,  attacked  and  routed  the  Fredon- 
ians ;  the  Indians  were  bought  off  from  their  alliance  by  gifts  of 
land;  to  show  their  attachment  to  the  established  authority,  the 
savages  murdered  Hunter,  who  would  have  kept  them  to  their 
first  promise;  Edwards  was  dispossessed  of  his  grant,  and  he  and 
his  colonists  returned  to  the  United  States. 


THE   AUSTINS. 


335 


During  this  war  in  Fredonia,  the  other  colonies  progressed 
finely.  But  all  were  regarded  with  a  jealous  eye  by  the  Mexi- 
cans, because  they  so  faithfully  preserved  their  own  institutions. 

At  the  time  when  Mexico  was  a  dependency  of  Spain,  Texas 
had  been  a  separate  province;  but  when  the  independent  consti- 
tution was  adopted,  Coahuila  and  Texas  were  made  one  state. 


THE  MURDER  OF   HUNTER. 

This  large  extent  of  territory  being  comprised  under  one  govern- 
ment, and  that  inefficient,  crying  evils  naturally  arose.  The  con- 
stitution of  this  double  state  was  adopted  in  1827,  being  ostensibly 
modeled  on  that  of  the  United  States,  but  with  fatal  differences. 
One  law  passed  in  1830,  prohibited  further  immigration  from  the 
United  States.  This,  however,  was  disregarded  by  those  who  wish- 
ed to  come,  and  in  1831  the  Americans  there  numbered  about 
twenty  thousand, 


336  GENERAL   SAM   HOUSTON. 

The  Mexican  revolution  of  1832  showed  clearly  the  strength  of 
Texas,  and  hence  increased  the  jealous  hatred  of  the  Mexicans 
towards  her.  The  anxiety  of  the  United  States  government  to 
extend  its  limits  to  the  southwest  also  contributed  to  strengthen 
their  suspicions  of  the  colonists.  The  Americans  were  accused 
of  trying  to  carry  their  new  home  over  to  their  native  country, 
and  for  this  purpose,  it  was  thought,  they  fought  so  steadily  for 
what  they  had  learned  to  consider  their  rights. 

Every  man  of  discernment  saw  that  the  day  was  not  far  distant 
when  Texas  would  be  no  longer  a  part  of  Mexico ;  but  Austin  tried 
to  keep  his  colony  peaceful  and  prosperous,  that,  when  the  time 
came  for  the  struggle,  their  efforts  might  be  crowned  by  success. 
He  had  refused  to  aid  the  Fredonians,  for  their  revolt  was  pre- 
mature; his  duty  to  his  adopted  country  forbade  his  encour- 
aging resistance  to  its  legally  constituted  authorities,  when,  al- 
though there  were  evils,  they  were  hardly  such  as  could  or  should 
be  redressed  by  fighting.  He  knew  that  his  colonists,  free-born 
Anglo-Americans  as  they  were,  would  not  always  submit  to  the 
government  of  men  accustomed  to  tyranny,  and  modelling  their 
state  after  those  of  the  Bark  Ages  of  Europe. 

GENERAL   SAM   HOUSTON. 

"Whatever  laws  might  be  made,  there  was  no  such  thing  possi- 
ble as  keeping  the  adventurous  and  daring  spirits  of  the  United 
States  out  of  any  place  whither  they  wished  to  go,  and  the  dis- 
turbances of  1832  attracted  many  such  to  Texas.  ]STot  the  least 
among  these,  if  we  consider  either  his  previous  position  or  his 
later  services,  was  Sam  Houston,  whose  voluntary  exile  from  Ten- 
nessee, for  the  past  three  years,  had  been  explained  in  many  ways. 

Born  in  Kockbridge  County,  Virginia,  in  1793,  his  father  died 
in  1807,  leaving  a  widow  and  nine  children  in  destitute  circum- 
stances. Removal  to  Blount  County,  Tennessee,  immediately 
followed,  and  here  the  youth  of  our  hero  was  spent  in  alternately 
attending  school,  working  on  his  mother's  farm,  and  clerking  in 
a  store;  until  suddenly  he  left  home  and  joined  the  Cherokee 
Indians.  This  wild  life  does  not  appear  to  have  lasted  very  long, 
for  we  find  him,  while  still  a  mere  boy,  teaching  school  hi  order 
to  pay  off  some  debts.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  he  enlisted  in  the 
army  for  the  Creek  war,  then  raging  in  Florida,  and  by  his  gal- 
lantry in  action  won  the  approval  of  Gen.  Jackson.  His  daring 
pn  the  field  at  the  battle  of  the  Horseshoe  resulted  in  several 


GENERAL   SAM   HOUSTON. 


337 


severe  wounds,  from  which  he  did  not  recover  for  over  a  year; 
and  in  the  promotion  to  the  rank  of  second  lieutenant. 

Being  appointed  sub-agent  for  the  Cherokee  Indians  in  1817, 
he  was  soon  accused  of  abusing  his  authority;  but  investigation 
proved  that  the  charges  were  made  by  contractors  whom  he  had 
displeased  by  his  integrity.  Receiving  in  the  succeeding  year  a 
commission  as  first  lieutenant,  dated  back  a  year,  he  resigned  his 


HOUSTON   WOUNDED   IN  THE   CREEK  WAR. 

military  and  civil  honors  in  1819,  to  devote  himself  to  the  study 
of  the  law.  In  this  profession  he  speedily  attained  eminence, 
being  in  1819  elected  District  Attorney ;  at  the  same  time  the  ti- 
tle of  Major-General  of  militia  was  accorded  to  him.  Political 
honors,  also,  awaited  him.  Elected  and  re-elected  to  Congress 
in  1823  and  '25,  he  left  his  seat  there  at  the  close  of  Jiis  second 


838  GENERAL   SAM   HOUSTON. 

term  only  to  ascend  the  steps  of  the  gubernatorial  mansion  as  its 
master.  In  1829  he  was  happily  married,  and  to  all  appearance 
there  was  no  cloud  in  the  sky.  His  majority  had  been  over- 
whelming, his  popularity  was  unbounded,  his  administration  met 
with  no  opposition.  Such  was  the  brilliancy  of  his  prospects 
when,  without  any  warning  to  those  outside  their  mansion,  Mrs. 
Houston  returned  to  her  father's  house,  and  the  governor  resigned 
his  office  and  fled  from  the  city  in  disguise.  The  news  fell  like 
a  thunderbolt  upon  his  friends.  Neither  of  the  two  who  alone 
could  satisfy  curiosity  ever  told  the  story,  and  the  secret  has 
gone  down  with  them  into  the  grave. 

Houston,  on  leaving  the  city,  went  to  the  Cherokees,  who  were 
now  settled  on  the  Arkansas  River  in  the  Indian  Territory,  and 
was  by  them  formally  admitted  to  all  the  rights  of  citizenship  in 
the  tribe.  But  his  absence  was  a  puzzling  thing  to  those  interest- 
ed in  him,  and  it  was  accounted  for  in  various  ways.  There  are  al- 
ways those  who  are  ready  to  impute  evil,  and  perhaps  the  memory 
of  Burr's  treason,  which  men  still  in  the  prime  of  life  had  known 
at  the  time,  predisposed  them  to  suspect  Houston.  It  was  rum- 
ored that  he  was  to  invade  and  detach  Texas  from  the  Mexican 
government;  that  he  was  to  aid  Mexico  against  the  Spanish  in- 
vasion; that  he  was  to  collect  a  party  of  white  adventurers  and 
join  them  to  his  Indian  friends,  no  one  knew  for  what  purpose. 
So  well-defined  were  these  reports  that  they  reached  the*  ears  of 
President  Jackson,  who  immediately  wrote  to  Houston  to  depre- 
cate such  a  thing  as  the  attack  upon  Texas.  Similar  information, 
claiming  to  be  obtained  from  Houston  himself,  reached  the  Pres- 
ident again,  and  Jackson  confidentially  directed  the  secretary  of 
state  of  Arkansas  to  keep  him  informed  of  any  movements  on 
Houston's  part  which  might  seem  to  confirm  this  intelligence. 
He  soon  received  the  welcome  news  that  there  were  no  such 
movements  on  foot. 

Appointed  confidential  Indian  agent  to  the  tribes  of  the  south- 
west in  1832,  it  was  probably  in  the  early  part  of  the  succeeding 
year  that  he  went  to  Texas.  He  had  been  solicited  by  friends 
there,  as  early  as  1829,  to  join  them,  but  had  preferred  his  life  in 
the  Cherokee  nation.  When  he  did  cross  the  boundary  it  was 
probably,  at  first,  in  prosecution  of  the  work  assigned  him  as 
Indian  agent.  The  Mexicans  complained  a  great  deal  of  the  in- 
roads of  Indians  from  the  United  States,  and  Houston  had  orders 
frc-m  our  government  to  induce  them  to  leave  Texas  and  return 


COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE.  539 

to  their  reservations.  While  engaged  in  this  work,  which  the 
jealousy  of  the  Mexican  authorities  rendered  unsuccessful,  he 
met  with  Col.  James  Bowie,  around  whose  name  clusters  so  many 
border  associations,  and  who  lived  and  died  so  bravely  for  Texas, 
that  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  introduce  him  still  more  fully 
to  the  reader. 

COLONEL   JAMES   BOWIE. 

A  native  of  Georgia,  his  parents  removed  to  Louisiana  in  1802, 
with  their  five  sons,  of  whom  the  most  famous  in  after  years  was 
the  second,  James.  Here  he  grew  to  manhood,  tall  and  well- 
proportioned,  fair-haired  and  blue-eyed ;  erect  in  bearing,  mild 
and  quiet  in  his  manner;  jovial  and  companionable,  but  not  a 
drunkard;  with  a  wonderful  art  of  winning  people  to  him,  and 
extremely  prodigal  of  his  money.  Contrary  to  the  impression 
which  generally  prevails,  he  was  not  an  habitual  duelist.  The 
knife  which  bears  his  name,  and  which  was  first  made  by  his  bro- 
ther, Rezin  P.  Bowie,  was  never  but  once  used  by  him  except  as  a 
hunting  knife.  This  single  occasion  was  in  1827,  when  James 
Bowie  met,  on  a  sand-bar  in  the  Mississippi,  an  antagonist  by 
whom  he  had  been,  on  a  previous  occasion,  waylaid  and  shot. 
James  Bowie  fell  at  the  first  fire,  and  his  opponent,  Wright,  was 
advancing  to  give  him  the  coup  de  grace,  when  Bowie  drew  the 
knife  and  killed  him.  Several  others  were  killed  in  this  fight, 
for  the  quarrel  had  been  well  known,  and  both  men  had  many 
partisans.  After  a  lucrative  trade  in  the  negroes  captured  by 
Lafitte,  bought  by  the  Bowies  and  sold  in  Louisiana,  James  and 
Eezin  P.  Bowie  settled  in  Texas,  in  1830,  the  former  became  a 
naturalized  citizen,  and  soon  afterward  married  the  daughter  of 
the  Vice  Governor  of  San  Antonio. 

Late  in  1831,  the  two  brothers,  accompanied  by  seven  of  their 
countrymen  and  two  negro  servants,  set  out  in  search  of  the  de- 
serted silver  mines  of  San  Saba.  They  had  been  on  the  road  more 
than  two  weeks  when  they  were  overtaken  by  two  Comanches 
and  a  Mexican  captive.  Early  the  next  morning,  before  they 
had  left  the  camp,  the  Mexican  of  that  party  arrived  in  a  state  of 
great  exhaustion,  with  a  warning  message  from  the  Comanche 
chief.  Over  a  hundred  and  fifty  hostile  Indians  would  soon  at- 
tack the  little  party,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  Comanches  to 
dissuade  them.  The  chief  offered  what  assistance  he  could  give 
them,  but  his  party  only  numbered  sixteen,  badly  armed  and 
without  ammunition.  Col.  Bowie  deemed  it  wisest  to  push  on 
22 


340  COLONEL  JAMES    BOWIE. 

towards  the  old  fort  on  the  San  Saba,  and  the  Mexican  returned 
to  his  party. 

But  with  bad  roads  and  worn-out  horses,  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  travel  thirty  miles  that  day.  It  was  at  first  difficult  for 
them  to  find  any  camping-place  where  they  would  be  at  all  secure 
from  the  Indians,  but  finally  they  selected  a  cluster  of  live-oak 
trees,  near  which  was  a  thicket  of  bushes  of  similar  growth,  and, 
thirty  or  forty  yards  in  another  direction,  a  stream  of  water. 
They  were  not  disturbed  during  the  night,  but  in  the  morning, 
just  as  they  were  about  to  leave  the  camp,  discovered  the  Indians 
about  two  hundred  yards  away.  They  numbered  one  hundred 
and  sixty-four,  while  there  were  eleven  men,  all  told,  in  the  camp. 
The  whites  accordingly  wished  to  avoid  a  fight,  and  sent  out  Re- 
zin  Bowie  and  David  Buchanan  to  parley  with  them.  Advanc- 
ing to  within  forty  yards  of  where  they  had  halted,  Bowie  asked 
them,  in  their  own  tongue,  to  send  forward  their  chief  to  talk 
with  him.  They  replied  in  English  with  the  salutation :  "How  d'ye 
do  ?  How  d'ye  do  ?"  and  with  a  volley  from  their  rifles,  breaking 
Buchanan's  leg.  With  his  wounded  comrade  on  his  back,  Bowie 
started  back  to  the  encampment,  followed  by  a  heavy  fire.  Bu- 
chanan was  wounded  twice  again,  but  slightly,  while  Bowie  es- 
caped unhurt.  A  spirited  contest  now  ensued,  the  rifles  of  the 
whites  doing  deadly  work  among  the  Indians  on  the  open  prai- 
rie. Slowly  and  surely  the  savages  closed  around  the  little  camp 
in  a  complete  circle,  and  the  white  men  almost  despaired  of  driv- 
ing them  off.  But  the  Indians  were  by  no  means  pleased  at  their 
success  ;  every  .volley  from  the  camp  brought  down  five  or  six 
of  their  warriors,  while  they  had  no  guide  for  their  aim  but  the 
smoke  of  the  white  men's  guns.  They  now  determined  to  resort 
to  stratagem,  and  set  fire  to  the  dry  grass  of  the  prairie  with  a 
double  object  in  view;  it  would  at  once  drive  the  whites  from 
their  shelter,  and  enable  the  Indians,  under  cover  of  the  smoke, 
to  carry  off  their  dead  and  wounded.  A  change  in  the  wind  ren- 
dered the  position  of  the  white  men  doubly  dangerous,  driving 
the  fire  directly  upon  them;  if  they  remained  where  they  were, 
they  would  be  burned  alive ;  if  they  left  it,  it  would  bo  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Only  one  fire  remained  in  their 
guns,  and  in  the  shower  of  sparks  no  man  dared  open  his  powder- 
horn.  The  thicket  which  sheltered  them  was  now  burnt,  and 
they  set  about  building  a  breastwork  of  loose  stones  and  of  earth 
which  they  dug  up  with  their  knives  and  sticks.  The  fight  had 


COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE. 


341 


lasted  since  sunrise,  and  it  was  now  nearly  night.  The  Indians 
withdrew  to  a  distance  of  about  three  hundred  yards,  and  en- 
camped, while  Bowie's  party  working  hard  at  the  earthwork, 
succeeding  in  raising  it  breast-high  by  ten  o'clock.  As  they 
worked,  they  could  hear  the  wild  lament  of  the  Indians  over  their 
dead,  and  when  they  awoke  at  the  change  of  guard,  the  sad 
sounds  still  greeted  their  ears.  They  prepared  for  another  at- 
tack next  day,  although  their  originally  small  party  had  been 


GEKERAL  SANTA  ANNA. 

much  reduced,  one  man  being  killed  and  three  wounded ;  but  the 
Indians  did  not  again  attack  them.  Eight  days  were  passed  here, 
when  they  returned  to  San  Antonio,  a  twelve  days'  journey. 

Such  was  the  famous  Col.  Bowie,  of  whose  death  by  the  hands 
of  the  enemies  of  Texas  we  shall  learn  later  on.  His  introduc- 
tion of  Houston  to  various  Mexican  authorities  probably  proved 
of  material  advantage  to  our  hero.  Of  course  it  was  Houston's 
character  and  reputation  that  drew  Bowie  to  him,  and  that,  only 
two  months  after  his  first  coming  to  Texas,  led  to  his  election  as 


342  STEPHEN   F.    AUSTIN. 

a  delegate  to  the  postponed  constitutional  convention.  Houston 
was  the  chairman  of  the  committee  that  framed  a  constitution  to 
be  submitted  to  the  general  government  and  to  the  people;  a 
brief,  but  model  document,  that  would  have  insured  to  the  Tex- 
ans,  had  it  ever  gone  into  effect,  all  those  rights  and  privileges 
so  dear  to  the  people  of  the  United  States.  Three  delegates  were 
chosen,  to  present  this  constitution  to  the  supreme  government, 
Stephen  F.  Austin  being  elected  by  the  largest  majority.  For 
some  reason  the  others,  Wharton  and  Miller,  did  not  execute  the 
commission,  and  Austin  went  alone  to  the  capital. 

Santa  Anna  had  been  recently  elected  President,  but  had  re- 
tired to  his  estates,  leaving  Yice  President  Farias  in  charge  of 
the  government.  His  design  was  to  overturn  the  constitution 
and  establish  a  "strong"  government,  with  himself  as  dictator; 
hoping  that  his  retirement  would  relieve  him  of  responsibility. 
Meanwhile,  all  political  business  was  thrown  into  disorder,  which 
was  further  increased  by  a  terrible  epidemic  prevailing  in  the  city. 
In  a  few  weeks,  cholera  carried  off  ten  thousand  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  metropolis;  it  spread  to  the  provinces;  the  meetings 
of  Congress,  even,  were  deranged  by  it. 

Austin  despaired  of  the  success  of  his  mission.  He  had  already 
urged  his  suit  with  such  importunity  as  to  offend  Farias ;  there 
was  no  prospect  that  Congress  would  take  any  action  upon  it. 
Full  of  disappointment,  he  wrote  to  a  citizen  of  San  Antonio, 
recommending  that  all  the  municipalities  of  Texas  unite  in  form- 
ing a  state,  under  the  constitution  of  1824,  and  thus  prepare  to 
resist  a  refusal  of  their  application.  Some  one  in  San  Antonio 
sent  a  copy  of  this  letter  to  Farias,  who  received  it  after  Austin 
had  left  the  capital.  An  express  was  immediately  despatched, 
and  Austin  arrested  and  carried  back  to  a  Mexican  prison.  For 
four  months  he  lay  in  close  confinement  from  the  light  of  day, 
and  for  a  time  denied  the  use  of  writing  materials.  These  were 
furnished  him,  however,  by  a  priest  who  had  ministered  to  the 
colony  of  San  Felipe — a  warm  personal  friend, — and  the  musings 
written  in  pencil  in  a  small  memorandum  book  give  a  picture 
of  his  mind. 

In  June  his  condition  was  improved.  He  was  removed  to 
more  comfortable  quarters,  and  given  to  understand  that  he  would 
— sometime — be  brought  to  trial.  The  charge  was  treason,  and 
the  first  court  before  which  he  was  brought  was  a  military  one. 
The  judge  decided  it  was  a  case  over  which  he  had  no  jurisdic- 


STEPHEN  F.   AUSTIN.  34£ 

tion.  A  civil  court  was  next  tried,  but  the  same  decision  was 
given.  The  judges  knew  that  there  were  no  real  charges,  but 
were  equally  afraid  to  acquit  or  convict.  Austin  ascribed  his 
persecution  to  a  crew  of  land-sharks,  who  had  fraudulently  ob- 
tained eight  hundred  leagues  of  land  around  Monclova.  These 
men  knew  that  if  he  were  at  liberty,  he  would  expose  their  claim. 

During  his  imprisonment,  he  was  re-elected  to  the  Legislature, 
but  never  occupied  his  seat.  Rumors  reached  him,  now  accusing 
him  of  being  too  Mexican,  now  of  paying  too  much  deference  to 
popular  opinion  in  Texas.  At  last,  after  he  had  been  in  prison 
for  a  year  and  a  half,  and  absent  ten  months  longer,  he  was  al- 
lowed to  return  to  San  Felipe  in  September,  1835.  The  greater 
part  of  the  time  that  he  was  a  prisoner  the  confinement  was  mere- 
ly nominal,  and  he  was  treated  with  flattering  attentions  by  Santa 
Anna,  when  that  official  resumed  the  reins  of  power.  Nearly  a 
year  before  Austin  was  permitted  to  return,  the  President  had 
taken  the  petitions  of  the  Texans  under  consideration,  convoking 
a  special  council,  in  which  Austin  had  a  seat,  for  that  purpose. 
His  decision  was  adverse  to  the  erection  of  Texas  into  a  separate 
state,  although  he  held  out  hopes  that  he  would  organize  it  as  a 
territory. 

Texas  had  been  the  scene  of  confusion  for  two  years.  Early  in 
1835  the  Federal  Congress  had  reduced  the  number  of  the  militia 
to  one  soldier  for  each  five  hundred  inhabitants,  and  decreed  that 
the  others  should  be  disarmed.  This  measure  was  intended  to 
prevent  resistance  to  anything  that  Santa  Anna  might  propose, 
but  failed  signally.  While  the  President  was  pretending  to  give 
favorable  attention  to  them,  he  was  really  planning  a  military 
occupation  of  the  state,  and  only  awaiting  an  excuse  to  punish 
them  for  their  boldness. 

This  excuse  was  soon  made  by  oppression.  The  spirit  of  the 
people  had  been  aroused  by  various  tyrannical  actions,  in  the 
assessment  and  collection  of  taxes,  in  quartering  soldiers  upon 
the  people,  and  in  arresting  several  citizens  upon  slight  pretence. 

In  pursuance  of  the  decree  directing  the  disarming  of  the  citi- 
zens, Captain  Castinado  was  sent  to  seize  a  small  cannon  at  Gon- 
zales,  that  was  used  against  the  Indians.  The  citizens  were  pre- 
pared to  resist  the  demand  by  force,  and  the  Mexicans  were  soon 
compelled  to  withdraw.  The  warlike  spirit  spread  like  a  prairie 
fire  in  the  fall ;  and  before  a  month  had  passed,  two  forts,  Goliad 
and  Lipantitlan,  garrisoned  by  Mexicans,  had  been  captured. 


344 


STEPHEN   F.   AUSTIN. 


This  was  done  by  volunteers  who  were  without  military  organ- 
ization, the  leader  being  elected  only  for  one  attack.  Some  of  the 
more  prominent  men  in  camp  wrote  to  San  Felipe  requesting 
Austin  to  come  to  them,  and  he  was  elected  their  commander. 


A  TEXAN  RANGER. 

At  this  stage  there  were  two  parties  in  Texas,  one  declaring 
for  war,  the  other  for  peace.  Of  this  latter,  the  leading  spirit 
was  Sam  Houston,  who,  in  August,  1835,  introduced  at  a  meeting 
in  San  Augustine  a  series  of  resolutions  which,  although  they 
remonstrated  against  Santa  Anna's  tyranny,  professed  loyalty  to 
the  national  constitution  of  1824.  But  it  soon  became  evident, 
even  to  him,  that  it  was  impossible  to  prevent  war,  and  in  Nov- 
ember of  the  same  year  he  accepted  the  commission  tendered 
him — commander  of  the  troops  of  Eastern  Texas. 


TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE.  345 

Houston  did  not  wish  to  interfere  with  Gen.  Austin,  and,  when 
the  latter  urged  him  to  take  entire  command,  absolutely  refused 
to  do  so ;  saying  that  Austin  had  been  elected  by  the  troops,  and 
the  reinforcements  had  been  enlisted  under  them  j  that  if  he  were 
to  resign  it  might  afford  ground  for  discontent.  The  same  Gen- 
eral Council,  which  elected  Houston  to  his  military  position,  es- 
tablished a  provisional  government,  and,  after  declaring  the  stand 
which  Texas  had  taken  to  be  in  accordance  with  the  support  of 
the  constitution  of  1824,  adjourned  until  March  1,  1836.  At  this 
second  session,  Austin  was  sent  as  a  commissioner  to  the  United 
States  to  secure  loans  to  maintain  the  government ;;  Henry  Smith 
was  elected  governor,  and  Houston  commander-in-chief. 

But  the  interval  between  these  two  sessions  is  not  devoid  of 
interest.  On  the  second  of  November,  the  Texan  army,  number- 
ing at  least  a  thousand  men,  left  Concepcion,  where,  on  the  twen- 
ty-eighth of  October,  they  had  defeated  the  Mexicans  under 
Gen.  Cos,  losing  but  one  man  to  the  enemy's  sixty,  and  marched  to 
San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  one  and  a  half  miles  away.  The  town  had 
been  put  in  good  condition  to  maintain  a  siege,  breastworks  be- 
ing thrown  up  at  the  entrance  of  every  street  into  the  square,  a 
redoubt  erected  in  a  vacant  lot  fronting  the  plaza,  and  artillery 
mounted  behind  the  parapet  on  the  roof  of  the  old  church.  The 
Mexicans  numbered  about  eight  hundred,  and  were*well  supplied 
with  cannon,  while  the  Texans  had  but  five  small  pieces.  It  had 
been  decided  that  to  storm  the  place  would  involve  the  loss  of  too 
many  men,  and  that,  therefore,  a  regular  siege  should  be  ordered. 

Every  effort  was  made  to  draw  the  enemy  out  of  his  fortifica- 
tions, but  in  vain.  They  soon  gave  evidence  of  weakness  by  send- 
ing horses  away  to  lessen  the  consumption  of  provisions;  three 
hundred  animals,  sent  to  Laredo,  were  captured  by  a  detachment 
under  Col.  Travis ;  their  poor  condition  showed  the  scarcity  of 
provender  in  the  town,  and  Austin  thought  that  it  could  not  long 
hold  out.  But  Cos  was  waiting  for  reinforcements,  and  would  not 
surrender.  The  Texans  grew  impatient  with  inaction,  and  the 
besieging  force  gradually  diminished,  until,  by  the  fourteenth, 
there  were  less  than  six  hundred. 

The  "  Grass  Fight/'  as  it  is  called,  occurring  on  the  twenty- 
sixth,  was  the  first  engagement  of  note  during  the  siege.  A  for- 
aging party,  sent  out  by  Gen.  Cos,  was  attacked  by  Col.  Bowie  and 
a  force  of  about  one  hundred  men.  A  confused,  running  fight,  the 
Mexicans  being  reinforced,  resulted  favorably  for  the  Texans. 


346  TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 

They  had  none  killed,  two  wounded  and  one  missing,  while  the 
enemy  had  fifty  killed  and  several  wounded. 

The  Texans  were  reinforced  before  assistance  reached  the 
Mexicans.  Mexico  complained  bitterly  of  the  assistance  in  men, 
ammunition,  and  money  that  New  Orleans  was  busily  transmit- 
ting to  the  rebel  citizens  of  a  friendly  government.  President 
Jackson  replied  that  there  was  no  law  in  the  United  States  to 
prohibit  the  transmission  of  arms  or  funds  or  prevent  persons 
from  leaving  the  country,  if  they  did  not  organize  forces  within 
its  limits.  So  high  ran  the  feeling  that  forces  were  organized 
within  the  United  States,  but  no  one  notified  the  authorities,  and 
more  than  one  well  equipped  company  was  sent  to  aid  the  pa- 
triots. Notable  among  these  were  the  New  Orleans  G-rays,  two 
companies  of  which  were  sent  to  San  Antonio  in  less  than  a  month 
and  a  half  after  the  news  of  the  Texan  revolution  had  reached 
New  Orleans. 

Gen.Burlesonwasnow  in  command  of  the  army  around  Bexar, 
which,  although  considerably  reinforced,  did  not  number  more 
than  eight  hundred  men.  An  attack  on  the  town  was  ordered, 
but  subsequently  postponed.  The  rage  of  the  soldiers  on  learning 
the  latter  decision  was  indescribable,  and  when,  late  in  the  even- 
ing of  the  fourth  of  December,  Col.  Benjamin  K.  Milam  cried : 
"  Who  will  go  with  old  Ben  Milam  into  San  Antonio  ?"  he  was 
answered  by  a  shout  from  every  man  in  the  army.  The  assault 
took  place  on  the  morning  of  the  fifth,  and  for  four  days  the  Tex- 
ans pressed  hard  upon  the  enemy.  At  length,  on  the  morning  of 
the  ninth,  Gen.  Cos,  who  was  now  shut  up  in  the  Alamo,  sent  a 
flag  of  truce,  expressing  a  desire  to  capitulate.  Easy  terms  were 
given,  the  officers  being  required  to  pledge  their  word  of  honor 
that  they  would  not  in  any  way  oppose  the  re-establishment  of 
the  constitution  of  1824. 

Col.  Milam  was  killed  early  in  the  assault,  and  the  honor  of 
the  victory  belopged  to  Col.  Johnson,  upon  whom  the  command 
devolved.  To  him,  also,  Gen.  Burleson  delegated  the  command 
at  the  Alamo,  leaving  a  force  sufficient  to  garrison  it ;  the  re- 
mainder of  the  army  dispersed.  The  humanity  with  which  the 
wounded  Mexicans  were  treated  was  remarkable  in  the  annals  of 
war,  but,  as  we  shall  see  later,  the  lesson  was  lost  upon  the  en- 
emy. 

But  new  difficulties  were  to  beset  the  new  republic,  only  to  be 
averted  by  a  clear  head  and  a  strong  hand.  An  effort  was  made 


TEXAS   WAR  'FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


347 


to  depose  the  existing  authorities  on  account  of  inefficiency;  but 
Houston  replied  to  this  speech,  in  a  meeting  at  San  Felipe,  with 
such  effect  that  the  mover  of  the  resolutions  tore  them  up  and 
left  the  assembly.  While  these  internal  dissensions  weakened 
Texas,  Mexico  became  the  more  united.  The  surrender  of  Cos 
at  San  Antonio  was  by  the  Mexicans  regarded  as  a  disgrace,  and 
all  concurred  in  an  eager  desire  to  avenge  the  dignity  of  the  re- 
public. Of  this  feeling  the  Texans  were  hardly  aware ;  they 
still  looked  for  co-operation,  from  the  other  states  in  supporting 
the  constitution  of  1824,  yet,  with  a  strange  inconsistency,  were 
looking  confidently  forward  to  independence.  It  was  in  accord- 
ance with  this  feeling  of  the  Mexicans  that  Santa  Anna  deter- 
mined to  lead  the  Mexican  army  in  person  into  Texas,  and,  col- 
lecting a  force  and  maintaining  it  by  a  tax  of  one  per  cent,  every 
twenty  days,  he  entered  the  state  a  little  after  the  middle  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1836.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  in  the  previous  year,, 
the  Texans  had  united  to  repel 
the  invader;  but  now  they  show- 
ed not  one  hundredth  part  of  that 
activity.  They  were  exhausted 
by  privations  and  toils  ;  they  did 
not  believe  that  Santa  Anna 
would  enter  the  state  again ;  there 
would  be  volunteers  from  the 
United  States  to  assist  them,  if 
they  waited ;  and  the  quarrels 
of  the  civil  authorities  had  a  par- 
alyzing effect  upon  the  people. 
The  invasion  was  a  thing  not  to 
be  denied  by  the  civil  or  mili- 
tary officers,  however,  and  Gov.  Smith  despatched  Col.  Travis, 
Gen.  Houston  and  Col.  Bowie,  each  with  a  force  of  thirty  men, 
to  the  relief  of  Bexar.  On  the  twenty-third  of  February,  the 
town  was  regularly  invested  by  a  force  of  five  or  six  thousand, 
the  besieged  numbering  but  one  hundred  and  forty-five.  These 
are  the  numbers  as  stated  by  Col.  Travis,  in  a  letter  written  dur- 
ing the  siege.  On  the  sixth  of  March,  1836,  the  Alamo  fell.  The 
garrison  had  held  out  a  long  time,  and  had  fought  desperately; 
the  commander,  Travis,  fell,  mortally  wounded  by  a  ball ;  a  Mex- 
ican officer  rushed  towards  him  with  drawn  sword;  the  hero  of 
the  Alamo,  rousing  himself  with  the  energy  of  despair,  drew  hig 


GENERAL  SAM  HOUSTON. 


348  TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 

own  sword,  and  the  two  enemies  closed  in  a  fatal  union,  the 
sword  of  each  sheathed  into  the  breast  of  the  other.  Such  was  the 
spirit  with  which  these  men  fought  for  their  independence.  Every 
prisoner  was  slain.  The  corpse  of  Travis  was  hunted  out  from 
the  heaps  of  slain,  that  Santa  Anna  might  run  his  sword  through 
it.  Two  officers  were  detailed  to  pile  up  the  bodies  of  the  defend- 
ers and  burn  them.  In  the  search  they  found  a  man  still  alive, 
lying  sick  on  a  stretcher. 

"  Do  you  know  him?"  asked  one. 

"  I  think,"  replied  the  other,  "  it  is  the  infamous  Col.  Bowie." 

They  berated  him  for  fighting  against  the  Mexican  government ; 
he  replied  by  denouncing  them  for  fighting  under  such  a  tyrant 
as  Santa  Anna ;  they  commanded  silence ;  he  answered  : 

"  Not  when  ordered  by  such  as  you." 

"Then  we  will  relieve  you  of  your  tongue,"  rejoined  one  of 
the  officers. 

The  brutal  order  was  given  to  the  soldiers  near  by,  and  speed- 
ily obeyed.  The  bleeding  and  mutilated  body  of  the  gallant  Tex- 
an was  thrown  upon  the  heap  of  the  slain,  the  funeral  pile  of  the 
patriots  saturated  with  camphene,  and  the  tall  pillar  of  flame 
that  shot  upward  bore  the  soul  of  Bowie  up  to  God. 

A  woman  and  a  negro  servant  were  the  only  persons  in  the 
fort  whose  lives  were  spared.  These  were  sent  to  Gen.  Houston, 
accompanied  by  a  Mexican,  who  was  commanded  to  offer  peace 
and  general  amnesty  to  the  Texans,  if  they  would  lay  down  their 
arms  and  submit  to  the  government  of  Santa  Anna.  Gen.  Hous- 
ton's answer  was : 

"  True,  sir,  you  have  succeeded  in  killing  some  of  our  bravest 
men,  but  the  Texans  are  not  yet  conquered." 

These  words  were  accompanied  by  a  copy  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  which  had  been  adopted  at  "Washington  on  the 
second  of  the  month. 

Having  taken  San  Antonio,  Santa  Anna  diverted  the  attention 
of  the  patriots  by  feints  upon  Gonzales  and  Bastrop,  and  then 
marched  upon  Goliad,  where  Col.  Fannin,  the  hero  of  Concep- 
cion,  was  stationed  with  a  small  force  of  volunteers,  variously 
estimated.  In  obedience  to  an  order  from  Gen.  Houston,  Fannin, 
who  had  greatly  diminished  his  force  by  sending  out  parties  to 
the  assistance  of  neighboring  settlements,  set  out  towards  Victo- 
ria. After  a  march  of  six  or  eight  miles  towards  the  Coleta,  he 
ordered  a  halt,  to  graze  and  rest  the  oxen  and  refresh  the  troops. 


TEXAS  WAR  FOS,  INDEPENDENCE.  84$ 

The  march  had  hardly  been  resumed,  when  they  were  attacked 
by  the  Mexicans.  All  day  long  they  fought,  and  when  night 
came,  as  neither  side  had  gained  a  decisive  victory,  the  Texan 
officers  decided  that  that  they  could  not  save  their  wounded  with- 
out capitulating.  A  white  flag  sent  out  by  them  was  promptly 
answered  by  the  enemy;  the  Mexican  General  Urrea  would  treat 
only  with  the  commanding  officer.  Col.  Fannin,  though  crippled 
by  a  wound,  went  out  and  made  excellent  terms.  The  Texans 
were  to  be  received  and  treated  as  prisoners  of  war,  and  were 
accordingly  marched  back  to  G-oliad,  where  they  arrived  March 
22d.  On  the  evening  of  the  twenty-sixth,  the  prisoners  were  dis- 
cussing their  departure  to  the  United  States,  whither  they  were 
to  be  sent,  and  some  were  playing  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  upon 
the  flute,  when  a  courier  arrived  from  Santa  Anna.  At  dawn  the 
next  day  (Palm  Sunday),  the  Texans  were  formed  in  several  di- 
visions and  marched  oif  in  different  directions.  Four  Texan 
physicians,  who  had  been  employed  in  caring  for  the  Mexican 
wounded,  were  taken  to  the  tent  of  Col.  Guerrier,  a  Mexican 
officer.  A  volley  was  heard  from  the  east;  another  from  the 
south ;  more  than  one  voice  cried  "  Hurrah  for  Texas  ! "  before 
it  was  stilled  forever;  many  fled  for  their  lives,  but  were  fol- 
lowed and  cut  down  by  the  cavalry. 

"  Can  it  be  possible,"  asked  Dr.  Shackelford  of  Col.  Guerrier,  as 
that  officer  entered  his  tent,  that  they  are  murdering  our  men?" 

"  It  is  true,"  answered  the  Mexican,  "  but  I  have  not  given  the 
order  or  executed  it." 

Three  hundred  and  thirty  Texans  suffered  death  by  that  order 
of  Santa  Anna's,  about  twenty-seven  escaping  to  their  friends. 

Santa  Anna  was  now  fully  convinced  that  Texas  was  almost 
completely  subdued,  and  proposed  to  return,  leaving  a  subordi- 
nate officer  to  finish  the  work ;  but  the  representations  of  his 
generals  prevented  him  from  carrying  out  this  plan.  The  Texan 
army  retreated  towards  the  west,  Houston  having  decided  to 
make  the  Colorado  the  line  of  defence;  but  the  panic,  which 
spread  through  the  country,  kept  men  at  home  to  defend  their 
families,  and  thus  no  reinforcements  came.  This  panic  was  main- 
ly produced  by  the  deserters  from  Houston's  army.  The  com- 
mander-in-chief  earnestly  begged  the  chairman  of  the  military 
committee  to  re-assure  the  people.  "We  can  raise  three  thou- 
sand men  in  Texas,"  he  wrote,  "  and  fifteen  hundred  can  defeat 
all  that  Santa  Anna  can  send  to  the  Colorado."  Every  effort  was 


350  TEXAS  WAR  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 

made  to  raise  more  troops,  but  no  reinforcements  had  arrived 
when  the  news  of  Fannin's  surrender  came.  The  army  was  about 
to  attack  the  Mexicans,  but  on  hearing  this  intelligence,  Houston 
decided  not  to  risk  a  battle — these  few  men  around  him  were  the 
only  hope  of  Texas — and  ordered  a  retreat.  "  I  held  no  councils 
of  war/'  he  said,  in  announcing  this  movement  to  the  govern- 
ment. "If  I  err,  the  blame  is  mine."  The  retreat  was  commen- 
ced on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-sixth  of  March ;  being  rein- 
forced by  one  hundred  and  thirty  men.  Encamping  west  of  the 
Brazos,  the  enemy  gradually  advanced  upon  them.  The  Texans 
had  received  some  reinforcements,  and  had  also  succeeded  in 
bringing  up  two  six-pounders,  the  famous  pieces  of  artillery  pre- 
sented by  citizens  of  Cincinnati,  and  named  the  Twin  Sisters. 
They  crossed  the  Brazos,  and  here  Houston  told  them  that  he  had 
been  blamed  by  some  because  the  Texans  were  not  permitted  to 
meet  the  enemy ;  but  that,  as  soon  as  circumstances  would  per- 
mit, they  should  have  fighting  to  their  satisfaction.  Texas  could 
not  survive  two  battles ;  they  could  not  merely  check  the  enemy ; 
he  must  be  whipped,  and  the  work  done  in  one  fight. 

On  the  seventh  of  April  Houston  notified  the  army  to  be  ready 
for  action  at  any  moment.  The  spies  kept  them  informed  of  the 
movements  of  the  enemy,  and  on  the  nineteenth  they  learned 
that  Santa  Anna  was  there  in  person.  The  Texans  continued 
their  march,  closely  followed  by  the  Mexicans,  until  on  the 
twenty-first  both  were  encamped  near  the  San  Jacinto  river. 
Here  at  noon  of  that  day  a  council  of  war  was  held  under  a 
tree,  the  officers  discussing  whether  they  should  attack  the  enemy 
or  await  an  attack  from  him.  Some  of  them  urged  that  the 
strength  of  Santa  Anna's  position  and  the  coolness  of  his  veterans 
would  be  disastrous  to  the  raw  militia  of  their  army,  but  others 
favored  the  attack.  A  bridge,  which  was  the  only  passage  to  the 
Brazos,  was  hewn  down  by  the  Texans  to  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  the  Mexicans.  About  three  in  the  afternoon,  the  Texan  army 
formed  in  line  of  battle.  The  twin  sisters  opened  a  destructive 
fire  upon  the  Mexicans  when  within  about  two  hundred  yards  of 
their  breastworks ;  and  the  whole  line,  advancing  in  double-quick 
time,  crying  "Kemember  the  Alamo  !  Remember  G-oliad !"  pour- 
ed a  murderous  fire  into  their  ranks.  The  Texans  never  halted, 
but  on  the  left  pressed  on  to  the  woodland,  driving  the  Mexicans 
before  them,  the  cavalry  on  the  right  meeting  with  the  same  suc- 
cess. In  the  center  the  enemy's  artillery  had  been  taken,  and 


TEXAS   WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE. 


351 


HOUSTON  DICTATING   ORDERS. 


turned  against  his  own  flying  forces.  The  Texan  commander  was 
everywhere  along  the  line  of  attack,  encouraging  and  directing 
his  men  j  often  getting  in  front  of  his  own  gunners. 


352 


TEXAS    WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE. 


In  fifteen  minutes  from  the  time  of  the  first  assault  the  Mexi- 
cans were  flying  in  all  directions.  With  terrible  slaughter  among 
the  fugitives  the  flight  continued,  men  and  horses,  dead  and  dy- 
ing, forming  a  bridge  through  the  morass  for  the  pursuers.  Not 
many  of  the  Texans  were  wounded;  the  commander-in-chief  had 
his  horse  shot  two  or  three  times,  and  received  a  severe  wound 
in  the  ankle.  Still  the  chase  continued,  Houston  still  at  the  head 
of  his  men.  The  Texans,  having  no  time  to  load,  clubbed  their 
guns;  then  they  used  their  pistols,  and  their  bowie-knives  next 
came  into  requisition.  Night  fell,  and  the  pursuit  was  given  over 


HOUSTON  AT  SAN  JACINTO. 

for  that  day.  The  victors  secured  seven  hundred  and  thirty  prison- 
ers, and  provided  for  the  wounded  of  both  armies  as  well  as  they 
could.  Two  hundred  and  eight  of  these  were  Mexicans,  twenty- 
five  were  Texans;  six  hundred  and  thirty  of  Santa  Anna's  men, 
and  eight  of  Houston's  had  been  killed.  The  Texans  had  taken, 
besides,  a  large  quantity  of  arms,  great  numbers  of  horses  and 
mules,  the  camp  equipage  and  the  military  chest  of  the  enemy, 
the  latter  containing  about  twelve  thousand  dollars.  The  impor- 
tance of  this  acquisition  will  be  apparent  when  it  is  stated  that 


TEXAS   WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE. 


353 


there  T7as  no  such  thing  belonging  to  the  Texan  army.  Houston 
had  started  out,  on  this  campaign,  with  a  private  fund  of  two 
hundred  dollars ;  one-fourth  of  this  sum  had  been  given  to  a 
woman  who  had  been  widowed  by  the  Alamo  massacre,  as  he 
had  not  the  heart  to  refuse  her  request  for  aid. 

The  excitement  of  the  battle  had  hitherto  made  him  forget  his 
wound,  but  now,  in  the  comparative  quiet,  Houston  found  his 
foot  intolerably  painful;  the  boot  was  cut  from  the  swollen  limb, 
and  everything  done  to  alleviate  the  pain. 

Detachments  were  sent  out,  the  next  morning,  to  scour  the 


THE  FINDING  OF   "THE  MIGHTY  AND  GLORIOUS. 


country  for  the  purpose  of  making  prisoners.  One  of  a  party  of 
five,  while  in  the  act  of  shooting  a  deer,  discovered  a  Mexican 
fugitive.  All  rode  after  him,  but  he  fell  into  a  morass.  They 
had  some  difficulty  in  getting  him  out.  In  answer  to  their  ques- 
tions, he  said  he  was  a  private  soldier;  they  pointed  to  the  fine 
studs  in  his  shirt,  when,  bursting  into  tears,  he  admitted  himself 
an  aide-de-camp  of  the  general.  JSTot  being  able  to  walk,  he  was 
placed  on  one  of  the  horses  and  taken  to  the  Texan  camp. 

As  the  party  passed  the  prisoners,  a  murmur  of  surprise  was 
heard,  increasing  until  the  equally  surprised  captors  distinguish- 
ed the  words,  "El  Presidente,"  It  was,  indeed,  the  Mexican 


854  TEXAS   WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE. 

dictator  who  had  caused  the  massacre  of  the  Alamo  and  G-oliad 
— Santa  Anna,  himself,  "  The  Mighty  and  Glorious." 

Being  conducted  into  the  presence  of  G-en.  Houston,  he  imme- 
diately proposed  to  negotiate  for  his  release.  G-en.  Houston  told 
him  that  the  civil  government  of  Texas  would  take  cognizance 
of  that;  that  he  had  no  authority  to  treat.  Houston  rebuked 
Santa  Anna  for  his  cruelties,  and  received  the  excuse  that  the 
rules  of  war  had  devoted  Travis  and  his  men  to  death,  since  they 
had  refused  to  surrender,  although  unequal  to  defense;  that  if 


SANTA  ANNA  BEFORE  HOUSTON. 

Fannin  had  ever  capitulated,  he  was  not  aware  of  it ;  Urrea  had 
deceived  him,  and  informed  him  that  they  were  vanquished;  and 
he  had  orders  from  his  government  to  execute  all  that  were  taken 
with  arms  in  their  hands.  Eaising  himself  painfully,  Houston 
said: 

"  General  Santa  Anna,  you  are  the  government — a  dictator 
has  no  superior." 

It  was  at  this  interview  that  Houston,  excited  by  a  remark  de- 
rogatory to  the  bravery  of  the  Texans,  by  one  of  Santa  Anna's 
subordinates,  took  from  his  pocket  an  ear  of  dry  corn,  and,  hold- 
ing it  out,  said,  "  Sir,  do  you  ever  expect  to  conquer  men  who 
fight  for  freedom,  when  their  general  can  march  four  days  with 
one  ear  of  corn  for  his  rations?" 


TEXAS  WAR  TOR  INDEPENDENCE.  355 

The  prisoner  was  assigned  quarters  near  Gen.  Houston's  tent, 
and  was  treated  with  great  magnanimity.  An  armistice  was 
agreed  upon,  Santa  Anna  sending  orders  to  Gen.  Filisola,  his 
second  in  command,  to  retire  to  Yictoria  and  Bexar,  to  set  free 
all  prisoners,  and  not  to  ravage  the  country.  Different  opinions 
prevailed  in  the  Texan  cabinet  as  to  what  course  should  be  pur- 
sued; a  small  minority  favored  the  immediate  execution  of  the 
monster,  but  the  majority  judged  that  such  a  course  would  enrage 
Mexico  still  more,  and  lose  them  the  sympathy  so  active  in  their 
favor  in  the  United  States.  It  was  finally  decided  to  treat  with 
him,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of  May,  1836,  a  public  and  a  secret 
treaty  were  signed,  by  which  Santa  Anna  acknowledged  the  in- 
dependence of  Texas,  and  engaged  to  remove  his  troops  from  the 
state. 

Gen.  Houston's  wound  had  proved  so  troublesome  that  he  was 
obliged  to  ask  for  leave  of  absence,  and  go  to  ]STew  Orleans  for 
surgical  aid ;  leaving  Texas  May  5,  he  was  absent  j  ust  two  months. 
Returning,  he  found  the  independence  of  Texas  fully  establish- 
ed, although  the  treaty  had  not  yet  been  entirely  fulfilled,  Santa 
Anna  being  still  a  prisoner.  His  detention  rendered  Texas  all 
the  safer,  as  the  Mexicans  found  it  impossible  to  raise  another 
invading  army  without  the  presence  of  their  dictator. 

A  general  election  was  ordered  by  the  President  to  take  place 
in  September;  for  the  highest  office,  the  supreme  executive,  there 
were  two  candidates,  Stephen  F.  Austin  and  Henry  Smith.  About 
two  weeks  before  the  election,  an  assembly  of  more  than  six 
hundred  persons  at  Columbia  nominated  Houston.  On  his  ar- 
rival in  New  Orleans  he  had  been  solicited  by  a  number  of  Tex- 
ans  there,  to  become  a  candidate  for  the  presidency,  but  had 
positively  refused.  At  this  time,  each  of  the  two  candidates  re- 
presented a  political  party,  the  power  of  each  party  being  about 
equal.  Houston  knew  that  he  would  be  obliged  to  fill  all  appoint- 
ive offices  with  his  political  friends,  and  his  administration  would 
meet  with  severe  criticism  and  stern  opposition  from  the  other 
party.  Houston  himself  was  free  -from  the  trammels  which 
bound  the  others,  and  believing  that  he  could  effect  a  consolid- 
ation of  both,  he  accepted  the  nomination,  and  was  elected  by  a 
large  majority.  The  constitution  adopted  at  this  election  gave 
him  the  appointment  of  his  cabinet,  and  Gen.  Austin  was  made 
Secretary  of  State,  and  Ex-Go v.  Smith  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

Besides  the  questions  already  mentioned  as  submitted  to  the 
23 


356  TEXAS   WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE. 

people  in  this  election,  there  was  another  of  considerable  impor- 
tance, both  now  and  later.  Should  Texas  apply  for  admission 
into  theKepublic  of  the  United  States  ?  This  was  decided  in  the  af- 
firmative by  a  nearly  unanimous  vote,  -and  Austin  immediately 
went  to  work  to  prepare  instructions  for  the  diplomatic  agents 
that  were  to  be  sent  to  our  capital.  For  three  days  he  worked, 
and  late  into  the  night,  in  a  room  that,  in  spite  of  the  extremely 
cold  weather,  was  without  fire.  The  exposure  brought  on  a  cold 
which  terminated  fatally  on  the  twenty -seventh  of  December. 
Thus  early  in  the  history  of  the  infant  republic  died  "the  father 
of  Texas,  the  first  pioneer  of  the  wilderness."  His  untiring  ser- 
vices were  fitly  styled  invaluable  by  the  order  issued  from  the 
War  Department.  His  mission  to  the  United  States  was  a  deli- 
cate and  difficult  one,  but  executed  with  fidelity  and  crowned 
with  success. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  detail  the  events  of  this  administration. 
A  threatened  invasion  from  Mexico  was  repelled ;  the  United 
States  acknowledged  the  independence  of  Texas,  but  refused  to 
listen  to  her  request  for  annexation  ;  the  Indians  were  made  to 
keep  at  a  respectful  distance;  economy  of  the  strictest  kUid  was 
practiced  even  to  the  disbanding  of  the  army.  The  constitution 
made  the  first  presidential  term  only  two  years  in  length,  the 
incumbent  being  ineligible  for  re-election  ;  so  that  in  1838  he  left 
the  office,  that  for  the  next  three  years  was  to  be  filled  by  the 
late  Yice-President,  Gen.  Lamar.  When  Houston  was  elected 
for  the  second  time  he  found  the  public  debt  enormously  increas- 
ed ;  government  securities  worth  but  fifteen  or  twenty  cents  on 
the  dollar;  the  Indians  hostile;  the  Mexicans  threatening  anoth- 
er invasion.  The  Congress,  then  in  session,  was  busily  con- 
sidering questions  of  retrenchment  and  reform,  and  to  them  the 
new  President  lent  his  most  earnest  endeavors.  Various  recom- 
mendations of  his  were  acted  upon,  and  a  rigid  economy  prac- 
tised in  all  departments  of  the  government. 

About  this  time,  the  question  of  annexation  to  the  United 
States  was  revived.  Mexico  had  not,  for  six  years,  made  any 
serious  attempt  to  re-conquer  her  revolted  province,  and  the  Tex- 
ans  judged  that  this  would  be  a  point  in  their  favor.  But  the 
Mexicans  heard  of  the  movement,  and  to  keep  up  their  claim, 
sent  a  number  of  small  marauding  parties  into  Texas.  In  view 
of  these  inroads,  President  Houston  recommended  to  Congress 
that  the  archives  of  the  government  be  removed  from  Austin  tp 


TEXAS   WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE.  357 

some  more  secure  point.  Thereupon  ensued  the  "Archive  "War," 
a  bloodless  combat,  in  which  the  pride  of  the  city  of  Austin  was 
laid  low. 

The  Mexican  raids  continued,  and  in  March,  1842,  San  Antonio 
and  G-oliad  were  taken.  Many  prisoners  were  taken  by  the  en- 
emy in  the  succeeding  year,  and  were  badly  treated.  The  re- 
lease of  one  hundred  and  four  in  the  year  1844  has  been  thought 
to  be  in  accordance  with  the  dying  request  of  Santa  Anna's  wife. 

Early  in  the  year  1843,  it  was  expected  that  a  large  party  of 
Mexican  merchants,  with  valuable  stocks  of  goods,  would  pass 
along  that  large  strip  of  uninhabited  country  belonging  to  Tex- 
as. They  were  looked  upon  as  legitimate  prey,  since  the  war 
had  recommenced,  and  the  War  Department,  instructed  by  Pres- 
ident Houston,  authorized  the  organization  of  a  party  for  its  cap- 
ture. Col.  Snively,  the  commander  of  the  expedition,  was  in- 
structed to  keep  on  Texas  soil,  make  captures  only  in  honorable 
warfare,  and  pay  one-half  of  the  spoils  into  the  public  treasury. 
This  last  was  regarded  as  an  unreasonable  condition,  and  was 
rejected.  The  party  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  men  set  out  about 
the  middle  of  April,  and,  two  months  later,  fell  in  with  a  party 
of  Mexican  soldiers  sent  to  guard  the  train.  Of  these  seventeen 
were  killed  and  eighty  taken  prisoners.  Elated  with  their  suc- 
cess (for  they  had  taken  a  good  supply  of  provisions  and  horses), 
the  party  separated,  preferring  to  return  by  two  different  routes. 
The  news  that  such  an  expedition  was  contemplated  had  reach- 
ed St.  Louis,  and  two  hundred  U.  S.  dragoons  had  been  sent  out 
to  protect  the  caravan.  These  discovered  Snively' s  party,  sur- 
rounded it,  and  under  pretense  that  it  was  on  the  soil  of  the  Un- 
ited States,  compelled  the  men  to  surrender  and  give  up  their 
arms.  It  was  afterwards  proven  that  they  were  on  Texan  soil, 
and  the  United  States  paid  for  the  guns  that  had  been  seized. 

The  miserable  failure  of  this  expedition  caused  it  to  be  after- 
ward disclaimed  by  the  President  as  unauthorized,  but  this  was 
not  sufficient  to  prevent  his  being  blamed  severely  for  it  at  the 
time.  If  it  had  been  successful,  that  would  have  been  another 
thing  entirely.  But  Houston  was  becoming  unpopular,  because 
of  his  attitude  regarding  the  question  of  the  day — annexation. 
Desiring  it  as  earnestly  as  any  of  his  constituents,  he  dissembled 
his  wishes,  thinking  an  indifferent  attitude  on  the  part  of  Texas 
would  sooner  secure  it ;  this  was  not  generally  understood,  and  ho 
was  accused  of  thwarting  the  wishes  of  the  people  in  that  direction, 


358  TEXAS   WAR   FOR   INDEPENDENCE. 

A  more  honorable  measure  than  the  Snively  expedition,  was 
the  assertion  of  the  strength  of  the  government  during  the  dis- 
turbances which  occurred  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  country.  Two 
factions,  the  Regulators  and  the  Moderators,  defying  the  law, 
engaged  in  a  vendetta  ;  many  men  on  both  sides  were  killed  and 
many  unlawful  acts  committed  ;  the  militia  was  called  out  and  the 
disturbance  quelled,  but  it  was  several  years  before  peace  was 
established  between  the  more  bitter  members  of  the  two  parties. 

But  the  securing  of  an  armistice  with  Mexico  was  one  of  the 
greatest  events,  if  not  the  greatest  of  Houston's  second  administra- 
tion. There  was  ev&ry  reason  to  believe  that  this  would  result  in  a 
treaty  between  the  two  republics,  by  which  the  elder  would  rec- 
ognize the  independence  of  the  younger.  England  and  France 
united  to  insure  the  independence  of  Texas,  on  condition  that 
she  should  not  be  annexed  to  the  United  States.  The  application 
to  be  admitted  into  the  Union  had  been  renewed,  and  rejected 
again.  The  influence  of  the  two  great  European  powers  that  had 
interested  themselves,  finally  secured  Mexico's  recognition  of 
Texas  as  a  sovereign  power. 

On  the  election  of  Mr.  Polk  to  the  presidency  of  the  United 
States,  the  question  which  had  been  twice  brought  before  them, 
and  twice  been  disapproved,  was  reconsidered  again,  and  the  Con- 
gress of  the  United  States  invited  the  Republic  of  Texas  to  enter 
the  Union.  A  convention  was  called  for  the  consideration  of  this 
offer,  and  by  a  vote  of  fifty-five  to  one,  it  was  accepted.  October 
10th,  the  people  ratified  the  action  of  the  convention,  and  De- 
cember 2d,  President  Polk  signed  the  bill  extending  the  laws  of 
the  United  States  over  Texas.  February  19,  1846,  the  republic 
was  finally  merged  in  the  state. 

At  the  first  session  of  the  State  Legislature,  G-en.  Houston  was 
elected  U.  S.  Senator,  and  was  re-elected  in  1847  and  1851.  This 
prevented  his  taking  part  in  the  war  between  Mexico  and  the 
United 'States,  which  followed  the  annexation  of  Texas.  An  old 
Jackson  Democrat,  he  was  early  suspected  of  a  leaning  towards 
the  North,  and  this  was  confirmed  by  his  vote  upon  the  question 
of  extending  the  Missouri  Compromise  line  across  the  continent. 
His  leaving  the  Democratic  for  the  Know-Nothing  party,  about 
1854,  made  him  so  unpopular,  that  he  saw  he  would  not  be  re- 
elected  in  1857;  so  he  announced  himself  as  an  independent  can- 
didate for  governor.  For  the  first  and  last  time  in  his  life,  he  was 
Beaten  in  a  popular  election.  Two  years  later,  he  was  an  inde- 


WAR  FOR  ttfDEtENfcENCE.  359 

pendent  Democratic  candidate  for  the  same  office,  and  w^as  elect- 
ed by  a  handsome  majority.  In  a  circular,  addressed  to  his  con- 
stituents before  the  election,  he  said:  " I  would  lay  down  my 
life  to  defend  any  one  of  the  states  from  aggression  which  en- 
dangered its  peace,  or  threatened  its  institutions.  I  could  do  no 
more  for  the  Union.  I  could  wish  to  do  more ;  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Union  would  be  the  ruin  of  all  the  states." 

The  Legislature  convened  in  extra  session  January  21,  1861, 
and  on  the  first  of  the  succeeding  month,  the  convention  called 
for  the  purpose  of  considering  the  question  of  secession,  passed 
an  ordinance  taking  Texas  out  of  the  Union.  It  was  too  late  to 
prevent  secession,  but  Houston  warmly  advocated  the  plan  of 
Texas  resuming  her  former  position  as  an  independent  republic, 
and  not  attaching  herself  to  the  Confederacy.  Failing  in  this,  he 
refused  to  take  the  oath  to  support  the  new  government,  and  was 
promptly  displaced. 

He  made  no  eifort  to  assert  his  authority  as  governor,  knowing 
that  it  could  result  in  no  good  to  Texas.  From  his  retirement, 
he  protested  against  the  proclaiming  of  martial  law  as  anti-re- 
publican, and  watched,  "  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,"  the  war 
measures  adopted  by  both  armies.  Secession  he  thought  would 
be  successful,  and  he  feared  that  both  northern  and  southern  gov- 
ernments would  lose  the  spirit  of  democracy.  "The  welfare 
and  glory  of  Texas  will  be  the  uppermost  thought,  while  the 
spark  of  life  lingers  in  this  breast:"  so  he  said  in  a  public 
speech  in  the  city  of  Houston,.  Mar.  18,  1863,  and,  while  few  be- 
lieved in  the  principles  that  had  led  him  to  resign  his  office,  no 
one  doubted  his  sincerity. 

This  was  his  last  appearance  before  a  public  audience.  A  lit- 
tle more  than  four  months  afterward  (July  26,  1863),  the  spark 
was  extinguished  forever — Houston  thought  no  more  of  the  wel- 
fare and  glory  of  Texas.  Even  in  the  whirl  and  turmoil  of  civil 
war,  the  people  turned  aside  for  a  moment  to  show  respect  for 
the  memory  of  the  man  whom  they  had  delighted  to  honor.  The 
hero  of  San  Jacinto,  the  only  man  who  was  twice  president  of 
Texas,  he  had  seen  the  statesmen  and  patriots  of  his  youth  gath- 
ered one  by  one  to  their  fathers  ;  and  the  only  monument  erect- 
ed to  his  memory  is  that  imperishable  one  in  human  hearts. 

Has  the  life  of  Houston,  as  here  told,  been  a  history  of  Texas, 
rather  than  a  biography  of  the  man  ?  Let  it  be  so,  to  fitly  rep- 
resent the  truth.  The  history  of  the  general  cannot  be  told  un- 


360  TEXAS  WAR  FOR 

x 

less  his  battles  are  recorded;  of  the  statesman,  unless  the  victor- 
ies of  peace  be  recounted;  of  the  patriot,  unless  the  land  that 
he  loved  be  prominent  on  the  stage.  His  was  the  strong  and 
steady  hand  that  held  the  helm;  the  sail  filled,  the  oars  were 
plied,  but  the  steersman  directed  the  course. 

One  word  of  explanation  remains  to  be  added,  and  that  in  re- 
gard to  his  name.  His  signature,  on  all  the  state  papers  and 
other  documents  existing,  stands  "  Sam  Houston."  There  is  never 
any  use  made  of  the  full  name  of  which  this  is  probably  the  ab- 
breviation.. Like  all  heroes  of  the  people,  his  name  is  preserved 
as  he  wrote  it. 


CHAPTER  xiv. 


KIT  CABSOff. 

SHOKT  of  stature,  slender  of  limb,  a  fair,  clean  shaven  face 
with  a  mild  and  quiet  expression  —  such  was  the  personal 
appearance  of  a  man  whose  name  is  known  far  and  wide  as  that 
of  as  skillful  a  hunter,  as  intrepid  an  Indian  fighter,  as  ever 
was  celebrated  in  our  legends  of  the  border;  such  was  Kit 
Carson. 

Authorities  differ  as  to.  both  time  and  place,  but  those  whom 
we  may  assume  to  have  gathered  their  information  from  his  own 
lips,  say  that  Christopher  Carson  was  born  in  Kentucky  in  1809. 
The  removal  of  his  parents,  in  the  succeeding  year,  to  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Boonslick  (Boonsboro),  Howard  County,  Missouri, 
had  led  some  to  suppose  that  this  was  his  birthplace,  while  still 
others  make  him  a  native  of  Illinois.  His  father  was  a  skillful 
hunter  and  trapper,  and  the  boy  was  early  trained  to  take  part 
in  the  sport.  By  the  time  he  had  reached  the  age  of  fifteen  he 
was  known  as  a  good  shot  in  the  country  where  all  could  shoot 
well,  and  had  had  more  than  one  perilous  adventure  with  the 
wolves  that  infested  the  neighborhood.  Of  these  trials  of  his 
courage  no  particulars  have  come  down  to  us  ;  but  the  bare  fact 
that  there  were  such  stories  told  of  him,  shows  that  the  exploits 
of  his  manhood  were  foreshadowed  by  those  of  his  youth. 

In  1824,  his  father  apprenticed  him  to  a  saddler,  but  the  con- 
fined life  was  extremely  distasteful  to  him,  and  after  enduring  it 
for  two  years  he  joined  a  party  of  traders  who  were  going  to 
Santa  Fe.  This  expedition  was  by  no  means  without  danger,  for 
the  route  was  infested  with  hostile  Indians,  who  were  always 
ready  to  commit  depredations  upon  the  caravans.  The  armed  par- 
ty, however,  reached  the  proposed  point,  the  capital  of  a  Mexican 
province,  without  encountering  any  such  interruption.  The  only 
accident  of  the  journey  was  a  wound  in  the  arm  of  a  man  whose 
gun  accidentally  went  off  as  he  was  taking  it  from  the  wagon.  The 


KIT   CARSON. 


injured  member  grew  rapidly  worse,  and  amputation  being  nec- 
essary, three  of  their  number,  Carson  and  two  others,  were  ap- 
pointed to  perform  the  operation ;  the  instruments  were  a  razor 
and  an  old  saw,  while  a  bolt  from  one  of  the  wagons  was  heated 


and  used  to  cauterize  the  wound.  The  patient  recovered,  much 
to  the  surprise  and  joy  of  the  surgeons.  Carson  spent  some  time 
in  Taos,  learning  the  Spanish  language.  .Returning  with  anoth- 
er party  of  traders  to  Missouri,  in  the  spring  of  1827,  he  enga- 


KIT  CARS6N.  363 

ged  himself  as  teamster  to  a  company  of  merchants  bound  for  El 
Paso.  Here  he  remained.  This  was  a  complete  change  from  his 
old  Missouri  home;  the  adobe  huts,  built  to  surround  a  square 
.  court,  in  the  old  Moorish  fashion,  each  separate  house  forming  a 
fort  that  could  be  defended  by  its  master ;  the  vineyards,  whence 
came  the  light  wine  and  brandy  for  which  the  place  was  well- 
known  ;  the  population,  half  Indian,  half  Spanish  :  all  these  had 
been  known  to  him  in  Taos,  and  he  only  renewed  his  familiarity 
with  them  in  El  Paso. 

The  winter  of  1827-8  was  passed  in  Taos,  in  the  employ  of  Mr. 
Ewing  Young ;  thence,  in  the  spring,  he  went  as  interpreter  with 
an  expedition  commanded  by  Col.  Tramell,  bound  for  Chihua- 
hua. While  this  position  was  held  in  higher  estimation  than  any 
he  had  yet  occupied,  he  did  not  find  its  safe  monotony  pleasant, 
and  left  it  to  engage  in  the  more  humble  work  of  a  teamster,  re- 
turning with  his  new  employer  to  Taos.  Here  he  found  an  op- 
portunity to  engage  in  the  pursuit  for  which  he  was  so  eminent- 
ly well  qualified,  and  in  which  he  delighted — hunting  and  trap- 
ping. A  party  of  trappers,  sent  out  by  his  old  employer,  Mr. 
Young,  came  in  with  but  few  peltries,  having  been  driven  away 
from  the  chosen  grounds  by  the  Indians,  and  a  larger  company 
was  organized  for  the  double  purpose  of  chastising  the  savages 
and  trapping  beavers.  The  commander  of  such  an  expedition 
of  course  desired  to  take  with  him  only  experienced  men,  as  raw 
recruits  were  apt  to  create  confusion.  It  was  then  a  high  com- 
pliment to  Kit's  courage  and  ability  that  he,  a  boy  of  nineteen, 
should  be  allowed  to  join  them  in  this  party. 

They  failed  to  find  the  savages  who  had  committed  the  offense, 
following  a  trail  which  afterwards  proved  to  be  that  of  another 
band  of  marauders.  Acting,  probably,  upon  the  principle  that 
if  these  Indians  hadnotdeserved'punishment  already,  they  might 
do  so  in  the  future,  a  sharp  skirmish  ensued  upon  their  meeting, 
and  fifteen  warriors  were  killed.  Proceeding  along  the  Salt 
river,  a  tributary  of  the  G-ila,  they  successfully  prosecuted  the 
work  for  some  time,  but  finally  decided  to  go  to  the  Sacramento 
valley.  Their  route  lay  through  a  desert,  where  they  suffered 
dreadfully  for  want  of  water  and  food  ;  with  this,  however,  they 
were  amply  supplied  by  a  party  of  Mohave  Indians,  whom  they 
met  in  the  canon  of  the  Colorado.  The  Mission  of  San  Gabriel 
extended  its  hospitality  to  them.  We  can  hardly  realize  what 
they  endured,  or  of  how  much  value  to  the  young  trapper  was 


364 


CARSOti. 


such  a,  journey.    Accustomed,  even  in  the  most  sparsely  settled 
districts,  to  roads  more  or  less  plainly  marked,  it  is  hard  for  us 
to  appreciate  the  situation  of  those  who  first  marked  out  these 
roads.     The  difficulties  of  the  route  were  still  farther  enhanced 
by  the  presence  of  the  Indians,  against  whom  they  must  be  al- 
ways on  their  guard.     This  journey  is  far  inferior  in  interest  to 
subsequent  adventures,  if  each  be  considered  singly;  but  taken 
as  an  indication  of  what  he  could  do,  and  as  training  for  his  future 
life  in  that  thinly  settled  country,  it  is  of  very  great  importance. 
The  party  spent  some  time  in  trapping  upon  the  Sacramento 
river,  the  richness  of  the  soil  about  them  supplying  them  with 
abundance  of  food.      The  country  around  them  was  filled  with 
vast  hordes  of  the  Klamath  or  Digger  Indians,  not,  however,  re- 
duced to   the  miser- 
able   wretches    that 
they  are  to-day. 
Then,  they  were  the 
lords    of  the    land, 
subsisting  upon    the 
plentiful  gifts  of 
mother  earth,  strong 
and  brave.  The  vices 
of    the    white    man, 
which    his    superior 
strength   defies,    are 
the     destruction    of 
that  lower  race,  and 
like  those  of  so  many 
other  tribes,  the  mod- 
>ern  Digger  does  not- 
fitly    represent     his 

CHRISTOPHER  CARSON.  fathers  ;  though  even 

then  this  tribe  was  inferior  to  the  Apaches  and  Comanches.  The 
curious  in  such  matters  may  refer  this  to  the  diiference  in  their 
food ;  would  it  not  be  better  to  conclude  that  the  higher  courage 
attacked  the  larger  game,  while  the  Klamaths  were  content  to 
war  upon  and  live  upon  grasshoppers  ?  For  so  did  the  Diggers 
anticipate  the  experiments  of  our  later  entomologists. 

Long  before  the  days  of  which  we  write,  the  Spaniards  had 
established  missionary  stations  along  the  coast  of  California, 
about  thirty  or  forty  miles  apart,  for  the  purpose  of  Christianiz- 


KIT   CARSOtf. 


ing  the  Indians.  Each  little  community  was  tinder  the  govern- 
ment of  a  prefect,  always  a  priest,  whose  temporal  authority  was 
equalled  only  by  his  spiritual.  He  was  appointed  by  the  Crown 
of  Spain,  and  that  government  contributed  a  considerable  sum 
for  the  maintainance  of  these  missions.  Attached  to  each  of 
these  stations  was  a  band  of  Indians,  for  whose  labors  the  worthy 
fathers  conceived  that  the  religious  instruction  given  them  made 
a  full  return.  When,  therefore,  the  Indians  became  restive  under 
their  "burden  of  forced  labor,  and  forty  of  them  deserted,  the 
missionaries  lost  little  time  in  appealing  to  Capt.  Young  and  his 
trappers,  for  assistance  in  compelling  the  neighboring  tribes  not 


INDIAN  CAPTURING  HORSES. 


to  harbor  the  fugitives.  Carson,  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  eleven, 
set  out  towards  an  Indian  town  near  San  Gabriel,  and  an  attack 
upon  it  resulted  in  the  destruction  of  one  third  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  the  complete  submission  of  the  others.  Peace  having  been 
thus  restored,  Capt.  Young  sold  a  number  of  furs  to  a  trader, 
who  was  then  at  San  Gabriel,  and  received  in  payment  a  large 
drove  of  horses.  But  the  Indians,  apparently  conquered,  were 
only  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  avenge  themselves  upon  the 
trappers,  and  one  night  stole  sixty  of  these  horses  while  the  sen- 
tinel slept.  Carson,  with  a  party  of  twelve,  was  sent  in  pursuit 
of  the  thieves.  It  was  not  difficult  to  follow  the  trail  of  so  large 
a  drove,  but  so  rapidly  did  the  Indians  retreat  with  their  booty, 


366  Rttf  CARSON. 

that  the  white  men  traveled  about  a  hundred  miles  before  com- 
ing up  with  them.  Carson  arrived  near  the  Indian  camp,  placed 
his  men  carefully  and  silently,  and  at  a  given  signal  they  rushed 
upon  the  warriors  as  they  sat  eating.  The  savages,  having  no 
fear  of  pursuit,  were  feasting  on  the  flesh  of  some  of  the  stolen 
horses.  The  attack  of  the  white  men  came  upon  them  like  a 
thunderbolt.  Eight  were  killed,  and  the  remainder  scattered  in 
all  directions,  leaving  the  victors  to  return  with  the  horses  not 
consumed,  and  with  three  Indian  children  that  were  left  in  the 
camp. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  1829,  Capt.  Young  decided  to  go  southward 
to  the  valley  of  the  Colorado.  Stopping  at  Los  Angelos,  many  of 
the  trappers  became  involved  in  a  drunken  fray  with  the  citizens, 
and  he  left  sooner  than  he  had  intended.  On  the  Colorado  they 
encamped,  and  were  very  successful  in  adding  to  their  stock  of 
furs.  On  one  occasion  they  would  have  lost  all  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  courage  and  address  of  Carson.  Left  in  the  camp  with 
only  a  few  men,  he  was  one  day  confronted  by  a  large  party  of 
Indians,  numbering  two  or  three  hundred.  These  did  not  mani- 
fest any  enmity  to  the  trappers,  and  they  were  apparently  un- 
armed ;  but  Carson  discovered  that  each  one  had  formidable  weap- 
ons concealed  under  his  upper  garment.  He  ordered  them  to  leave 
the  camp,  but  the  Indians,  seeing  how  far  superior  were  their  own 
numbers,  paid  no  attention  to  the  command,  acting  as  if  they  did 
not  comprehend  the  language.  Carson  quietly  drew  up  his  men, 
armed  with  their  rifles.  The  old  chief  had  betrayed  a  knowledge 
of  Spanish,  and  to  him  Carson  said  in  that  language: 

"  You  see  that  there  are  very  few  of  us,  but  we  are  all  well- 
armed,  and  determined  to  sell  our  lives  dearly.  Gro." 

Awed  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  and  the  glance  of  his  eye,  as  much 
as  by  his  words,  the  Indians,  who  never  voluntarily  face  open 
danger,  sullenly  withdrew.  Their  plan  had  most  probably  been 
to  produce  a  stampede  of  the  horses,  and  thus  secure  them,  after 
they  had  robbed  the  camp  of  the  valuable  furs  in  it.  Although 
the  trappers  were  not  again  disturbed  by  the  Indians,  this  was 
not  the  only  meeting  j  for,  a  little  later,  they  turned  aggressors, 
and  robbed  the  Indians  of  a  large  drove  of  cattle  and  of  several 
good  horses. 

Returning  to  Santa  Fe,  the  furs  were  disposed  of  for  such  a  sum 
that  each  man's  share  seemed  to  him  a  fortune,  and  each  one  im- 
mediately proceeded  to  get  rid  of  it  as  soon  as  possible.  Carson 


KIT    CARSON. 


367 


was  not  behind  his  companions  in  their  indulgence  in  the  dissipa- 
tions of  a  Mexican  town.  Having  sown  the  wind  by  killing  his 
opponent  in  a  street  brawl,  the  resulting  whirlwind  blew  him  far 
back  towards  his  old  home  in  Missouri.  Meeting  with  a  party  of 
trappers  on  their  way  to  Utah,  he  joined  them,  remaining  with 
them  some  time.  They  suffered,  occasionally,  from  the  depreda- 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE. 


tions  of  the  Crows  and  the  Blackfeet,  but  so  slightly  that  Fitz- 
patrick,  who  was  in  command,  would  not  permit  Carson  to  go  in 
pursuit  of  them.  Eeinforced  by  another  party,  however,  a  theft 
of  sixty  horses  while  they  were  in  their  winter  camp  he  was 
permitted  to  avenge.  Selecting  twelve  volunteers,  he  took 
up  the  trail,  and  coming  upon  the  Indians  in  one  of  their  strong- 


368  KIT   CARSON. 

holds,  cut  loose  the  horses,  attacked  their  rude  fort,  killed  five 
warriors,  and  made  good  their  retreat  with  the  animals  that  they 
had  recovered.  This  was  the  most  considerable  fight  during  the 
winter.  It  was  during  this  winter  that  Carson  had  a  very  narrow 
escape.  Out  looking  for  "beaver  sign,"  with  a  few  men,  he 
came  suddenly  upon  a  party  of  sixty  well-armed  and  mounted 
warriors.  Eesistance  was  useless,  and  the  trappers  beat  a  hasty 
retreat,  while  the  bullets  whistled  alarmingly  thick  about  them. 
He  was  accustomed  to  say,  long  afterwards,  that  this  was  one  of 
the  narrowest  escapes  that  he  had  ever  had. 

In  the  spring  of  1832,  the  party  being  upon  a  stream  where  he 
was  convinced  there  was  no  beaver,  Carson,  with  two  others,  left 
them  and  proceeded  to  another  stream.  Here,  high  up  in  the 
mountains,  and  hence  not  disturbed  by  the  Indians,  they  pursued 
their  work  successfully  for  the  whole  season.  Taking  the  furs 
to  Taos,  they  disposed  of  them  for  a  good  price,  and  Carson, 
taught  by  his  past  experience,  resisted  all  temptations  to  squan- 
der his  money.  This  was  a  hard  task  for  one  so  fond  of  the  so- 
ciety of  his  companions. 

During  his  stay  at  Taos,  he  was  invited  by  Capt.  Lee  to  join  an 
expedition  that  he  was  organizing,  and  in  October  of  the  same 
year  set  out  with  about  twenty  traders  and  trappers,  going  north- 
ward and  entering  winter  quarters  on  a  branch  of  the  Green  river. 
While  in  the  camp,  a  neighboring  settler  was  robbed  of  six  valu- 
able horses  by  an  Indian  whom  he  had  had  in  his  employ,  and  in 
whom  he  had  hitherto  reposed  great  confidence.  To  Carson  he 
applied,  asking  him  to  pursue  the  Indian  and  retake  the  horses. 
Having  obtained  permission  of  his  employer,  Kit  went  to  a  neigh- 
boring Utah  village,  where  he  was  well-known,  and  procured  the 
assistance  of  a  brave  and  hardy  young  warrior,  whom  he  knew  to 
be  reliable.  So  slight  were  the  indications  of  the  trail  that  they 
could  on,ly  follow  with  extreme  difficulty  and  slowness  at  first ; 
but  once  convinced  of  its  direction,  they  proceeded  more  swiftly. 
They  had  traveled  about  one  hundred  miles  when  the  Indian's 
horse  fell  sick;  in  vain  did  Carson  urge  him  to  continue  the 
pursuit  on  foot ;  the  warrior  bent  his  steps  homeward,  and  Kit, 
putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  followed  the  trail  for  thirty  miles 
farther.  The  fugitive  spied*him  at  the  same  moment  that  Kit 
saw  the  object  of  his  search,  and  with  true  savage  caution  turn- 
ed to  seek  a  shelter  from  which  he  might  fire  at  his  assailant. 
Galloping  towards  him,  Carson  raised  his  rifle,  took' aim  and  fired 


KIT   CARSON. 


just  as  the  Indian  reached  what  he  thought  would  be  safety.  With 
one  bound  the  savage  fell  beside  his  horse,  and  the  report  of  his 
own  gun  was  his  only  requiem.  » 


THE  PURSUIT  OF  THE  HORSE  THIEF. 

Soon  after  his  return  with  the  horses,  Carson  joined  a  party 
of  three  others,  with  whom  he  trapped  all  summer  on  the  Lara- 
mie,  with  unusually  good  results.  While  hunting  on  foot  for 
game  for  this  camp  he  met  with  the  most  perilous  of  his  adven- 
tures. He  had  just  shot  an  elk,  and  was  preparing  to  take  pos- 
session of  his  game,  when  two  grizzly  bears  rushed  upon  it.  He 


370 


KIT    CARSON. 


had  not  yet  reloaded,  and  besides,  his  rifle  could  defend  him  on- 
ly against  one;  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  make  for 
the  nearest  tree.*  The  bears  were  close  behind  him  when  he 
reached  a  sapling,  up  which  he  climbed  as  fast  as  he  could.  Fierce 
with  hunger,  his  pursuers  would  put  their  huge  paws  around  the 


A  FIG^T  WITH    GRIZZLIES. 

slender  trunk,  and  endeavor  to  reach  him.  Cutting  a  branch  from 
the  tree,  he  would  rap  sharply  each  black  nose  that  came  near 
enough,  and  bruin  would  go  away  growling,  only  to  return  when 
the  pain  ceased.  Nearly  the  whole  night  was  passed  in  this  way, 


KIT  CARSON.  371 

but  towards  morning  the  bears  departed.  "Waiting  until  they 
were  at  a  safe  distance,  Carson  scrambled  down  from  his  perilous 
perch,  and  made  his  way  to  the  camp.  The  elk  he  had  killed 
had  been  devoured  by  the  wolves,  but  he  was  only  too  glad  to 
have  escaped  with  his  life ;  and  his  safety  consoled  his  compan- 
ions for  supping  and  breakfasting  on  beaver. 

For  the  fall  hunt,  Carson  joined  a  company  of  fifty,  locating  in 
the  country  of  the  Blackfeet,  around  the  head  waters  of  the 
Missouri ;  but  the  Indians  were  so  numerous  and  hostile  that  they 
removed  to  the  Big  Snake  River.  During  the  winter,  the  Black- 
feet  stole  in  one  night  eighteen  of  their  horses,  for  the  recovery  of 
which  Carson  was  sent  with  eleven  men.  Riding  fifty  miles 
through  the  snow,  they  came  to  where  the  Indians  had  encamped. 
The  savages,  wearing  snow-shoes,  had  the  advantage,  and  the  par- 
ley which  they  demanded  was  readily  granted.  The  Indians  said 
that  they  thought  the  horses  belonged  to  the  Snake  tribe;  that 
they  did  not  intend  to  steal  from  the  white  men.  In  reply, 
Carson  asked  them  why  they  did  not  lay  down  their  arms  and 
smoke.  To  this  question  they  had  no  answer,  but  both  parties 
laid  aside  their  weapons  and  prepared  for  the  smoke.  The  war- 
riors made  long-winded,  non-committal  speeches ;  the  whites 
refused  to  hear  anything  of  conciliation  from  them  until  the 
horses  were  restored.  Thereupon  the  Indians  brought  out  five 
of  the  poorest  horses.  The  whites  started  for  their  rifles,  and 
the  fight  commenced. 

Carson  and  a  companion  named  Markland  got  hold  of  their 
rifles  first,  and  were  in  the  lead.  Selecting  for  their  mark  two 
Indians  near  to  each  other,  both  took  aim,  and  were  about  to  fire, 
when  Carson  saw  that  Markland's  antagonist  was  aiming  with 
deadly  precision  at  his  friend,  who  had  not  noticed  him.  Chang- 
ing his  aim,  he  sent  his  ball  through  the  heart  of  the  Indian,  and 
tried  to  dodge  the  shot  of  his  own  adversary.  He  was  a  moment 
too  late,  and  the  ball  struck  the  side  of  his  neck,  passing  through 
his  shoulder  and  shattering  the  bone.  The  fight  continued  until 
night,  but  Carson  was,  of  course,  only  a  spectator.  His  wound 
bled  profusely,  and  gave  him  considerable  pain,  but  not  a  word 
of  complaint  escaped  his  lips.  Nightfall  ended  the  fight  in  favor 
of  the  whites,  but  their  situation  was  extremely  precarious.  Not 
knowing  how  soon  the  Indians  might  return  with  reinforcements, 
they  dared  not  light  a  fire,  lest  it  should  betray  their  where- 
abouts. In  the  darkness  and  cold  they  held  a  hurried  council, 
24 


372 


KIT    CARSON. 


KIT   CARSON  373 

and  decided  to  return  to  the  camp.  Loss  of  blood  had  rendered 
their  leader  so  weak  that  he  was  unable  to  sit  on  his  horse ;  so, 
contriving  a  rude  litter,  they  carried  him.  Three  others  were 
wounded,  but  so  slightly  that  they  were  able  to  ride  back. 
Arrived  at  the  camp,  a  party  of  thirty  was  despatched  to  pursue 
the  Indians  ;  but  it  returned  in  a  few  days,  having  faile/l  to  over- 
take the  marauders. 

Carson  had  fully  recovered  from  his  wound  before  the  follow- 
ing summer,  when,  for  the  second  time,  he  attended  the  grand 
rendezvous  of  trappers.  This  meeting  was  held  annually  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  western  wilderness,  and  attended  by  traders, 
trappers  and  hunters  who  were  anxious  to  exchange  the  products 
of  their  labor  for  goods  and  money.  Parties  came  in  about  the 
time  agreed  upon,  and  encamped  around  the  given  spot.  Those 
who  came  earliest  waited  until  others  had  arrived,  before  they 
began  to  trade,  thus  fulfilling  the  unwritten  law  of  honor  which 
prevailed  among  them.  It  was  a  motley  crowd  that  was  there 
assembled,  the  traders  dilating  upon  the  difficulty  and  danger  of 
transporting  their  goods  from  St.  Louis,  a  thousand  miles  away. 
Indians  and  white  men  met  there  on  neutral  ground,  and  the 
hardy  hunter  of  the  States  consorted  with  the  no  less  hardy 
French  Canadians.  Nominally  a  peaceful  meeting,  it  was  no 
small  task  to  keep  from  open  fights,  and  it  sometimes  severely 
tasked  those  better  disposed  to  restrain  their  comrades.  Among 
the  more  orderly  was  Carson,  who  did  his  best  to  bury  the  hatch- 
et, even  though  a  large  party  of  Blackfeet,  including  the  Indians 
who  had  stolen  the  horses,  was  present,  protected  by  a  white  flag. 
His  influence  over  the  Indians,  however,  was  considerable  ;  they 
respected  his  courage  too  highly  for  him  to  be  unpopular  among 
them. 

There  was  a  greater  danger  to  be  encountered  among  the  white 
men.  A  French  Canadian,  John  Shuman,  was  notorious  as  a 
bully  and  a  braggart.  So  often  had  his  acquaintances  been  intim- 
idated by  him,  that  none  of  them  dared  resent  the  insults  which  he 
took  pleasure  in  heaping  upon  them.  Encouraged  by  their  sub- 
mission, and  greatly  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  he  began  to 
try  the  same  treatment  with  the  Americans.  Riding  about  the 
encampment,  he  denounced  them  as  lily-livered  cowards,  weaker 
than  women,  fit  for  no  manly  sport  or  occupation,  and  deserving 
liberal  applications  of  hickory,  outwardly.  Human  nature  can- 
not stand  everything ;  Carson  threw  aside  his  role  of  peace-mak- 


374 


KIT    CARSON. 


er,  and  stepping  out  from  the  crowd,  said,  in  his  softest  and  qui- 
etest tones  : 

"I  am  an  American,  and  one  of  the  least  of  them.     If  you 
want  to  fight  any  of  us,  you  can  begin  with  me." 


CARSON'S  DUEL  WITH  THE  BRAGGART. 

The  gigantic  Shuman  looked  contemptuously  down  from  his 
seat  in  the  saddle  upon  the  slender,  smooth-faced  young  man  who 
stood  before  him ;  then,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  riding  oif 
to  a  little  distance,  then  back  again,  raised  his  rifle  and  took  aim. 
Kit  had  sprung  upon  a  horse  and  was  ready  with  his  pistol.  Both 


fcrtf  CABSotf.  875 

fired  at  the  same  instant,  Shuman's  hall  grazing  Carson's  cheek 
and  cutting  off  a  lock  of  his  hair.  Kit  had  not  aimed  at  a  vital 
part,  wishing  to  teach  the  bully  a  lesson,  not  to  kill  him ;  his  hall 
entered  Schuman's  hand,  came  out  at  the  wrist,  and  passed 
through  his  arm  above  the  elbow.  He  begged  abjectly  for  his 
life,  and  never  insulted  Americans  again. 

Arrangements  were  made  at  the  rendezvous  for  the  fall  hunt, 
and  Carson  started  thence  with  a  party  to  the  Yellowstone. 
Meeting  with  little  success,  they  removed  two  or  three  times  and 
finally  determined  upon  a  wandering  hunt.  Through  the  glit- 
tering white  expanse  of  the  so-called  mud-lakes,  the  vast  prairies 
covered  with  the  worthless  artemisia  and  heavy  sand,  the  weary 
horses  plodded  forty  or  fifty  miles  without  food  or  water.  "Winter 
set  in  with  the  severity  common  in  this  latitude,  at  this  elevation, 
and  they  were  on  the  brink  of  despair.  It  had  been  resolved  to 
kill  one  of  the  horses  and  drink  his  blood,  when  they  came  in 
sight  of  a  party  of  Snake  Indians.  .  From  these  they  bought  a 
fat  pony,  and  the  rank  flesh  was  the  sweetest  they  had  ever  tasted, 
seasoned,  as  it  was,  by  hunger,  the  best  of  sauces.  Invigorated 
by  this  food,  they  proceeded  on  foot  to  Fort  Hall,  thus  allowing 
their  worn-out  horses  as  much  rest  as  they  could  give  them.  Ar- 
rived at  the  fort,  and  having  recruited  their  strength,  they  start- 
ed out  on  a  buffalo  hunt,  and  brought  in  as  much  meat  as  their 
horses  could  carry  •  but  on  the  third  morning  after  their  return, 
the  Indians  drove  off  all  their  horses  from  the  corral  in  which 
the  animals  were  confined ;  the  sentinel  mistaking  the  savages 
for  the  friendly  red  men  employed  about  the  fort.  Pursuit  was 
out  of  the  question,  as  the  same  trick  had  been  played  a  short  time 
ago  on  the  people  of  the  fort,  and  they  could  only  await  the  ar- 
rival of  a  detachment  of  their  party  which  they  expected  from 
Walla  Walla. 

The  men  expected,  came  in  about  four  weeks,  with  a  plentiful 
supply  of  horses ;  with  fresh  steeds,  and  men  well  fed  and  rested, 
they  started  towards  Green  river,  where,  at  a  rendezvous,  a  party 
of  a  hundred  was  organized  to  trap  upon  the  Yellowstone  and 
the  head  waters  of  the  Missouri.  This  was  the  country  of  the 
Blackfeet,  and  as  they  expected  to  meet  these  Indians,  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  while  fifty  were  trapping  and  hunting  for  food,  the 
others  should  guard  the  camp,  and  cook..  Their  precautions  were 
useless,  for  the  small  pox  had  raged  so  fiercely  in  this  hostile 
tribe  that  their  numbers  were  much  diminished,  and  the  survivors 


376 


KIT  CARSON. 


too  depressed  in  spirit  to  attack  the  whites.  A  camp  of  the 
friendly  Crows,  near  by  the  place  where  they  wintered,  gave  them 
companionship  and  assistance. 


DEFENDING  A  FALLEN  COMRADE. 


Hardly  had  they  begun  trapping  again  when  they  learned  that 
the  Blackfeet  had  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  pestilence, 
which  had  been  less  severe  than  had  been  represented.  Learn- 


KIT   CARSON.  377 

ing. that  they  were  encamped  not  far  from  the  trapping  ground, 
the  whites  determined  to  take  the  initiative.  Carson  and  five 
companions  went  forward  to  reconnoiter.  [Returning,  a  party  of 
forty-three  was  organized,  Carson  unanimously  chosen  as  leader, 
and  the  others  left  to  move  on  with  the  baggage.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  Indians  were  overtaken,  and  ten  were  killed  at  the 
first  fire.  Carson  and  his  men  were  in  high  spirits,  and  followed 
up  the  attack  for  three  hours,  meeting  with  but  little  resistance. 
Their  ammunition  began  to  run  low,  and  the  firing  was  less 
brisk,  when  the  Indians,  suspecting  this  to  be  the  state  of  affairs, 
turned  and  charged  upon  them,  uttering  their  terrible  war-cry. 
Enabled  to  use  their  small-arms,  Carson's  men  drove  back  the 
savages  with  considerable  slaughter,  but  rallying  yet  again,  they 
charged  so  fiercely  that  the  trappers  were  forced  to  retreat.  In- 
cited by  the  brave  generosity  of  Carson,  who  placed  himself  be- 
fore a  companion  disabled  by  his  horse  falling  upon  him,  and 
shot  the  foremost  of  the  six  warriors  who  rushed  to  get  the  fallen 
trapper's  scalp,  his  men  rallied  around  him,  and  fired  again  upon 
the  Indians.  Again  the  trappers  retreated  a  short  distance,  and 
made  a  stand ;  both  parties  seemed  to  be  exhausted,  each  appar- 
ently waiting  for  the  other  to  renew  the  attack.  While  they  thus 
remained  passive,  the  reserve  force  of  the  white  men  came  up, 
and  being  thus  freshly  supplied  with  ammunition,  they  renewed 
the  attack  with  the  old  vigor.  The  desperate  fight  which  ensued 
ended  in  the  defeat  of  the  Indians.  The  Blackfeet  lost  many 
men  in  this  encounter,  and  did  not  again  venture  near  the  trap- 
pers. 

After  leaving  the  summer  rendezvous  of  trappers,  and  engag- 
ing in  several  profitable  trades,  Carson  settled  himself  for  the 
winter  to  hunt  for  the  garrison  at  a  fort  on  the  Colorado,  and  in 
the  spring  engaged  in  the  old  business  with  only  a  single  com- 
panion. This,  he  thought,  would  enable  him  to  work  more  qui- 
etly;  as,  personally,  he  was  popular  with  the  Indians,  especially 
with  the  Utahs,  among  whom  he  was  going ;  but  all  the  tribes 
resented  the  presence  of  any  considerable  body  of  white  men  in 
their  territories.  It  was  while  on  this  expedition  that  he  had  a 
hand-to-hand  encounter  with  a  large  and  fierce  mountain  lion, 
being  armed  only  with  a  hunting  knife ;  the  long  fangs  of  the 
savage  creature  tore  his  flesh  dreadfully,  and  faint  with  loss  of 
blood,  he  was  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  it,  when  the  love  of 
life,  strong  even  when  we  are  in  despair,  incited  him  to  one  more 


378 


KIT    CARSON. 


effort,  and  the  keen  edge  of  his  knife  nearly  severed  the  head 
from  the  body. 

Encamping  with  a  large  party  on  the  old  trapping  ground  on 
the  Yellowstone,  about  midwinter  they  discovered  that  a  large 


INDIAN  WAR  DANCE. 


detachment  of  the  Blackfeet  was  alarmingly  near.  Forty  men, 
headed  by  Carson,  were  sent  to  sustain  their  attack.  Both  sides 
fought  bravely  until  darkness  put  an  end  to  the  contest,  and  dur- 
ing the  night  the  Indians  retired,  taking  their  dead  with  them. 
The  whites  knew  that  this  was  but  a  small  portion  of  that  pow- 


KIT   CARSON. 

erful  tribe,  which  numbered  about  thirty  thousand,  and  that 
they -would  probably  be  attacked  very  soon  by  a  larger  force. 
Carson  directed  that  a  breastwork  be  thrown  up.  Hardly  had 
this  been  completed,  when  the  Indians  began  to  assemble  around 
the  impromptu  fort.  In  three  days  about  a  thousand  warriors 
were  gathered  around  the  fort.  The  war-dance  took  place  in  sight 
and  hearing  of  the  trappers,  and  at  the  first  appearance  of  day- 
light the  Indians  advanced  ;  only  to  retire,  however,  when  they 
saw  the  strength  of  their  position.  They  had  recognized,  in  the 
preparations  for  defense, 'the  hand  of  Kit  Carson,  and  they  dar- 
ed not  again  contend  against  the  "  Monarch  of  the  Prairies." 

Several  seasons  were  passed  in  trapping,  but  no  extraordinary 
adventures  characterized  them.  The  price  of  furs  decreased  so 
much  that  it  was  no  longer  a  profitable  business;  and  after  eight 
years  spent  in  it,  Carson,  now  twenty-five,  decided  to  engage 
himself  as  hunter  to  Fort  Bent.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that, 
while  he  knew  thoroughly  "the  lay  of  the  land,"  and  all  the 
minor  points  of  use  to  him  in  guiding  a  hunting  expedition,  his 
lack  of  education  prevented  his  recording  this  knowledge  in  such 
a  way  as  to  confer  a  lasting  benefit  upon  others. 

At  Bent's  Fort  he  found  his  position  extremely  pleasant.  Not 
only  did  he  like  the  work  in  which  he  was  engaged,  but  he  form- 
ed a  sincere  and  lasting  friendship  with  his  employers,  Messrs. 
Bent  and  St.  Vrain.  Here  he  found  no  difficulty  in  feeding  the 
forty  men  in  the  fort,  killing  thousands  of  elk,  deer  and  antelope, 
as  well  as  smaller  game;  while  a  buffalo  hunt  afforded  him  the 
keenest  pleasure.  His  accurate  knowledge  served  him  well  in  this 
pursuit,  as  did  also  the  respect  and  esteem  of  the  Indians  for  him. 
It  was  while  ho  was  acting  as  hunter  to  Bent's  fort  that  some  of 
these  well-disposed  Indians,  having  suffered  considerably  from 
the  incursions  of  the  powerful  Sioux,  sent  to  him  for  assistance. 
Such  had  been  his  success  in  hunting  that  he  accepted  this  invi- 
tation, and  accompanied  the  Indians  to  their  camp.  Hero  he 
found,  besides  the  painted  Comanches,  to  which  tribe  the  mes- 
sengers had  belonged,  a  considerable  band  of  Arapahoes.  In  the 
council  which  followed,  they  told  him  that  the  Sioux  had  a  thou- 
sand warriors  and  many  rifles;  but  expressed  the  utmost  confi- 
dence in  the  Monarch  of  the  Prairies'  power  to  defeat  these 
dreaded  enemies.  Carson  listened  to  the  representations  of  the 
tribes  that  had  sought  his  aid,  and  urged  upon  them  the  superior 
advantages  of  a  peaceful  settlement  of  the  difficulty.  So  great 


380  KIT   CARSON. 

was  his  influence  over  them  that  they  consented  to  send  him  ag 
mediator,  and  he  succeeded  in  persuading  the  Sioux  to  return  to 
their  own  hunting  grounds  at  the  end  of  the  season. 

It  was  while  he  was  acting  as  hunter  to  Bent's  Fort  that  he 
married  an  Indian  wife,  by  whom  he  had  a  daughter  still  living. 
In  less  than  a  year  after  her  marriage,  the  mother  fell  a  victim 
to  her  devotion  to  her  husband.  Learning,  when  her  little  daugh- 
ter was  but  a  week  old,  that  her  husband  was  lying  ill  a  hun- 
dred miles  away,  she  mounted  a  horse  and  rode  to  where  he  was. 
A  fever,  thus  contracted,  put  an  end  to  her  life.  "When  this 
daughter  was  about  five  years  old,  Carson  brought  her  to  St. 
Louis,  to  put  her  under  such  care  as  would  be  better  calculated 
for  her  improvement  than  the  rude  teachings  of  her  mother's 
people,  or  the  little  training  she  could  receive  from  her  father's 
rough  companions.  Hither  his  fame  had  preceded  him,  and  he 
was  amazed  to  find  himself  a  lion.  But  pleasant  as  such  recog- 
nition might  be,  it  could  not  compensate  him  for  the  life  that  he 
loved ;  and  he  longed  to  return  to  his  old  hunting-ground. 

His  journey  to  St.  Louis  proved  to  be  a  turningrpoint  in  his 
life,  for  it  was  here  that  he  fell  in  with  Lieut.  John  C.  Fremont, 
then  under  orders  from  the  United  States  government  to  explore 
and  report  upon  the  country  lying  on  the  line  of  the  Kansas  and 
Great  Platte  Rivers,  between  the  western  boundary  of  Missouri 
and  South  Pass.  Bigelow,  in  his  life  of  this  gallant  officer,  pub- 
lished during  the  presidential  campaign  of  1856,  makes  the  state- 
ment that  the  meeting  between  Fremont  and  Carson  was  purely 
accidental ;  but  most  of  Carson's  biographers  represent  that  Fre- 
mont was  familiar  with  the  name  and  fame  of  the  daring  plains- 
man. This  latter  seems  much  the  more  probable  ;  it  is  hardly  to 
be  believed  that  the  active  young  officer,  from  whose  brain  had 
emanated  the  idea  of  this  expedition,  should  never  have  heard  of 
the  most  famous  of  the  hunters — the  "  Thief-Taker,"  as  the  whites 
had  named  him;  the  "Monarch  of  the  Prairies,"  as  the  Indians 
called  him. 

Carson  was  engaged  as  guide,  and  proved  an  invaluable  acqui- 
sition even  to  a  party  composed,  as  this  was  in  great  measure, 
of  voyageurs  familiar  with  prairie  life  by  reason  of  their  services 
to  the  fur  companies.  Twenty-one  men,  principally  Creoles  and 
Canadians,  composed  the  party  at  first;  to  it  being  added  Mr. 
Preuss,  as  assistant  topographer,  a  hunter,  and  the  guide.  In 
May,  1842,  they  left  St.  Louis,  proceeding  by  boat  to  Chouteau's 


KIT   CAESON.  881 

Landing,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas,  whence,  after  a  few  days' 
delay,  they  started  on  the  overland  journey.  For  a  distance  of 
nearly  a  hundred  miles  the  road  was  excellent; 

"  The  prairie  stretched  as  smooth  as  a  floor, 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  see," 

and  the  path  was  so  well-defined  that  they  experienced  no  diffi- 
culty in  pursuing  it.  Arrived  at  the  ford  of  the  Kansas,  they  met 
with  their  first  delay  since  leaving  Chouteau's  Landing.  The 
horses  were  driven  in  and  reached  the  opposite  bank  in  safety, 
and  although  the  oxen  occasioned  some  anxiety  by  swimming 
down  the  river,  they  were  recovered  the  next  morning.  An  in- 
dia-rubber boat,  twenty  feet  long  and  five  feet  wide,  was  launch- 
ed, and  on  it  were  placed  the  body  and  wheels  of  a  cart,  the 
load  belonging  to  it,  and  three  men  with  paddles.  Such  was  the 
velocity  of  the  current,  joined  to  the  unwieldy  nature  of  the 
freight,  that  the  boat  could  only  be  successfully  steered  to  the 
opposite  side  by  means  of  a  line  held  in  the  teeth  of  one  of  the 
best  swimmers,  who  assisted  in  drawing  the  vessel  over.  Six 
passages  had  been  made  in  this  way,  the  swimmer  being  Basil 
Lajeunesse ;  night  was  rapidly  approaching,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  the  work  of  transportation  should  be  completed.  Disre- 
garding the  advice  of  Carson,  Lajeunesse  started  out  the  last 
time  with  a  double  load;  the  boat  capsized,  and  it  was  only  with 
considerable  trouble  that  the  cargo  was  recovered.  Carson  and 
the  hunter,  Maxwell,  were  in  the  water  the  greater  part  of  the 
next  day  searching  for  the  lost  articles,  and  were  so  affected  by 
the  exposure  that  the  party  had  to  remain  encamped  there  an- 
other day.  Two  days  more  were  passed  at  a  camp  seven  miles 
further  up  the  river.  Provisions  were  dried  and  repacked,  cart 
covers  painted,  and  marksmanship  perfected. 

Leaving  this  camp,  they  marched  onward  through  a  country, 
where  for  several  days  their  only  difficulty  was  the  scarcity  of 
water.  Eeaching  the  country  occupied  by  the  Pawnees,  they 
found  it  would  be  necessary  to  keep  guard  at  night,  since  these 
thieving  hordes  openly  attacked  the  weaker  parties,  and  endeav- 
ored to  carry  off  the  horses  of  even  the  stronger.  It  may  be 
readily  believed  that  any  report  of  the  Indians  being  in  the 
neighborhood  was  carefully  investigated.  Such  an  alarm  was 
given  by  a  man  who  had  fallen  some  distance  in  the  rear,  and 
who  came  spurring  up,  shouting  "  Indians,  Indians  I"  Being 
questioned,  he  said  that  he  had  been  near  enough  to  see  and  count 


382  fci 

a  war-party  of  Indians  following  them,  stating  the  number  as 
twenty-seven.  A  halt  was  called,  arms  examined,  and  while  they 
were  preparing  for  the  attack  which  they  expected,  Carson  gal- 
loped off  alone  in  the  direction  that  the  Indians  were  said  to  be 
advancing.  Eeturning,  he  said  that  the  twenty-seven  Pawnees 
had  changed  to  six  elk,  that  had  scampered  off  when  they  had 
passed.  A  more  serious  alarm  resulted  from  their  first  buffalo 
hunt,  some  days  later,  in  Carson's  being  thrown  from  his  horse 
by  its  fall  among  the  herd.  This,  although  really  a  serious  ac- 
cident, did  not  not  prevent  his  engaging  in  the  hunt  the  next 
day.  A  threatened  attack  of  the  Sioux  produced  great  confu- 
sion in  the  camp,  as  they  were  not  accustomed  to  the  perils  of 
the  life  upon  the  plains.  Carson,  knowing  that  these  men  were 
not  to  be  depended  upon  in  an  encounter  with  the  savages,  as 
were  those  experienced  trappers  who  had  been  his  companions 
in  the  previous  years,  made  his  will,  and  the  knowledge  of  this 
increased  the  fears  of  the  men  ;  but  this,  like  the  other  dangers 
they  had  encountered,  passed  off  without  any  serious  result.  The 
grasshopper,  that  scourge  of  the  West,  whose  ravages  have  of 
late  years  been  more  familiar  than  ever  to  us,  had  destroyed 
nearly  all  the  vegetation  in  the  country  through  which  they  were 
shortly  to  pass,  and  famine  had  so  weakened  the  Indians  that 
they  were  unable  to  attack  Fremont's  party. 

Carson's  position  in  this  expedition  was  honorable,  as  testify- 
ing to  his  reputation  as  a  guide  and  hunter  •  but  it  has  by  no 
means  been  accorded  the  consideration  which  it  deserved.  The 
party,  as  before  stated,  consisted  almost  entirely  of  French  voy- 
ageurs,  who  had  spent  their  lives  in  hunting  in  the  less  dangerous 
regions  farther  east;  there  was,  besides,  a  hunter  of  experience  in 
the  country  through  which  they  were  passing  ;  all  were  alike  in 
their  jealousy  of  Kit  Carson,  and  their  anxiety  to  supplant  him 
wherever  possible  in  the  favor  of  the  commander.  So  well  did 
the  Creoles  succeed  in  causing  his  claims  to  be  overlooked,  that 
he  was  not  included  in  the  party  which,  on  the  fifteenth  of  Aug- 
ust, ascended  the  highest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and 
planted  the  American  flag  on  the  summit  of  the  height  hitherto 
untrodden  by  the  foot  of  man. 

The  return  trip  was  accomplished  without  accident,' the  party 
arriving  in  St.  Louis  Oct.  17th,  less  than  five  months  from  the  date 
of  departure,  Carson  leaving  them  at  Fort  Laramie.  From  this 
point  he  proceeded  to  New  Mexico,  where  he  settled  near  his  old 


KIT    CARSON. 


883 


headquarters,  Taos ;  married  a  Spanish  lady,  and  went  to  farm- 
ing ;  being  occasionally  employed  as  a  hunter  by  his  old  friends, 
Messrs.  Bent  and  St.  Train,  of  Bent's  Fort.  In  June,  1843,  he 
heard  that  Capt.  Fremont  had  organized  a  second  expedition, 
starting  from  Kansas  City  May  29th,  and  resolved  to  see  his  old 


CAKSON'S  HOUSE  AT  TAOS. 

commander.  His  was  too  noble  a  heart  to  think  that  he  had 
been  slighted  before :  if  he  had  noticed  the  enmity  of  his  compan- 
ions at  all,  he  had  by  this  time  forgotten  it.  Setting  out  from 
Taos,  he  journeyed  seventy  miles  before  he  fell  in  with  the  party  ; 
Fremont,  conscious  of  the  value  of  his  services,  immediately  ex- 


384  KIT   CARSON. 

tended  him  a  cordial  invitation  to  join,  which  was  accepted  with- 
out the  least  hesitation.  On  leaving  Taos,  Carson  had  expected 
only  to  meet  Fremont,  and  immediately  return,  but  the  allure- 
ments of  the  journey  were  such  as  he  could  not  resist. 

The  destination  proposed  for  the  first  part  of  their  journey  was 
the  Great  Salt  Lake,  which  a  division  of  the  party,  including 
Fremont,  Carson,  and  five  others,  reached  by  descending  Great 
Bear  Eiver.  Embarking  in  the  india-rubber  boat,  they  found 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  this  great  inland  sea  in  a  craft  which 
hasty  construction  had  made  unseaworthy,  while  the  waves  in 
the  distance  were  lashed  by  the  rising  wind  into  foamy  white- 
ness. The  transparency  of  the  water  enabled  them  to  see  the 
bottom  of  the  lake  through  its  emerald  depths ;  yet  deceived 
them  somewhat  as  to  the  real  distance  between  them  and  the 
yellow  sand  beneath.  They  directed  their  course  towards  one 
of  the  lower  islands,  reaching  it  about  noon.  Tho  spray,  which 
had  covered  them  with  a  crust  of  salt,  clothed  the  low  cliffs  of 
this  island  with  a  glittering  mantle  of  whiteness,  and  the  hollows 
in  the  rocks  were  lined  with  the  same  substance  to  the  depth  of 
one-eighth  of  an  inch.  One  thing  from  which  they  suffered  on 
the  journey  had  been  the  lack  of  salt;  a  want  which  they  were 
now  fortunately  able  to  supply,  as  the  water  proved  to  be  a 
saturated  solution  of  common  salt,  without  those  other  substances 
which  render  the  water  of  the  ocean  bitter.  Encamping  for  the 
night  upon  the  island  (which  they  named  "Disappointment,"  be- 
cause, afar  off,  they  had  thought  its  barren  shores  looked  fertile), 
they  were  lulled  by  the  murmur  of  the  waves  beating  upon  the 
cliffs.  Returning  in  the  morning  to  the  camp  where  they  had 
left  two  of  their  companions,  they  remained  upon  the  shores  of 
the  lake  for  some  time,  subsisting  upon  what  game  they  could 
kill.  This  was  but  a  poor  resource,  and  they  were  glad  to  wel- 
come the  other  division  of  the  party  that  came  with  supplies. 

The  severe  and  early  winter  of  this  high  latitude  was  now  ap- 
proaching, and  Fremont,  knowing  that  some  of  his  party  would 
not  be  able  to  endure  its  hardships,  called  them  together  and 
told  them  of  what  was  yet  to  be  undergone.  Eleven  of  the  party 
consented  to  return  to  the  settlements,  twenty-five  pushing  on- 
ward to  the  limit  of  their  journey.  Difficulties  thickened  around 
them.  Although  it  was  only  the  latter  part  of  September,  the 
weather  was  very  cold,  and  the  wintry  rain  was  blown  directly 
in  their  faces.  It  was  no  longer  possible  to  journey  regularly 


KIT    CARSON.  385 

every  day,  and  be  certain  of  finding  a  suitable  place  for  their 
camp  at  night.  The  many  short  and  steep  ascents  in  the  road 
consumed  the  strength  of  both  men  and  horses;  and  each  cart 
had  to  be  pushed  up  each  steep  inclination  by  the  men.  Two 
buffaloes  were  killed  by  Carson,  and  an  ox  that  they  had  brought 
with  them  was  slaughtered.  The  only  Indians  with  whom  they 
met  were  those  tribes  whose  whole  life  was  spent  in  the  search 
for  food;  Diggers  and  the  kindred  fish-eating  Indians.  Both 
live  during  the  summer  upon  the  most  loathsome  animals ;  with 
long  hooked  sticks  they  draw  the  lizards  from  their  holes,  and 
by  circles  over  the  wide  plains  they  drive  into  pits,  prepared  for 
the  purpose,  the  abundant  grasshoppers.  In  winter  time  they  re- 
tire to  those  homes  which  a  beneficent  nature  has  fashioned  for 
them — the  caves  in  the  rocks. 

By  the  presence  of  such  inhabitants  was  the  sterility  of  the 
country  made  manifest,  but  Fremont  pushed  bravely  on  until  he 
had  fulfilled  the  orders  under  which  he  was  acting.  The  arrival 
at  a  point  on  the  Columbia  river,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in 
a  bee-line  from  its  mouth,  connected  his  surveys  and  observations 
with  those  of  Commander  "Wilkes,  and  fulfilled  his  instructions. 
He  was  not  satisfied  with  the  execution  of  his  orders.  Although 
it  came  in  the  form  of  an  order  from  the  War  Department,  per- 
mission to  undertake  this  second  expedition  had  been  obtained 
with  difficulty,  and  even  rescinded  after  it  was  given;  and  he 
was  so  enthusiastic  over  his  work  that  he  determined  to  take 
another  route  an  his  return,  three  principal  points  being  the  spec- 
ial objects  of  interest.  These  were  Klamath  Lake,  a  lake  called 
Mary's,  and  a  large  river  known  by  report  as  Bonaventura,  flow- 
ing from  its  headwaters  in  the  Eockies  to  the  Pacific.  The  diffi- 
culty of  their  undertaking  was  enhanced  by  the  season,  and  by 
the  youth  of  some  members  of  the  party,  several  of  whom  were 
not  twenty-one.  The  journey  is  one  full  of  interest  to  the  scien- 
tist; as  the  only  white  men  by -whom  that  country  had  been  tra- 
versed were  the  hunters,  who  lacked  skill  and  will  to  transfer 
their  knowledge  to  the  printed  page;  but  as  far  as  reaching  the 
three  bodies  of  water  above  mentioned  is  concerned,  it  was  a 
failure,  simply  because  two  of  them  have  no  existence,  and  the 
third,  Klamath,  is  a  lake  when  the  snows  from  the  neighboring 
mountains  are  melting,  and  a  green  plain  during  the  remainder 
of the  season. 

Day  after  day  they  journeyed  painfully  on  in  the  hope  of  find- 


386  KIT    CARSON. 

ing  the  fertile  valley  and  wooded  shores  of  the  river  of  Good 
Luck;  but  at  last  the  hope  was  recognized  as  a  vain  one,  and  they 
determined  to  cross  the  mountains.  For  a  few  days  they  had  fol- 
lowed a  broad  trail,  and  thus  were  relieved  from  anxiety  regard- 
ing suitable  places  for  encampment.  Carson  had  described  to 
them  in  glowing  language  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento,  where, 
it  will  be  remembered,  he  had  been  some  fifteen  years  before. 
Towards  this  Land  of  Promise  they  bent  their  steps,  undismayed 
by  the  fact  that  it  was  the  middle  of  January,  and  that  there 
were  mountains  to  be  crossed.  To  the  camp  established  on  the 
head  waters  of  the  Salmon-trout  River,  came  scores  of  Indians  to 
warm  their  nearly  naked  bodies  at  the  white  men's  fire,  and  to 
secure  anything  which  could  be  gotten  by  fair  means  or  foul. 
These  were  by  no  means  disposed  to  underrate  the  difficulties  of 
crossing  the  mountains;  one  old  man,  who  seemed  particularly 
intelligent,  communicated  to  them  by  signs  the  information  that 
in  the  proper  season  for  making  the  journey  across  the  moun- 
tains it  was  six  sleeps  to  the  place  where  the  white  men  lived; 
but  that  now  the  journey  could  not  be  made ;  that  the  snow  would 
be  over  their  heads.  Fremont  replied  that  the  men  and  horses 
were  strong  and  would  beat  down  a  road  through  the  snow;  and 
a  judicious  display  of  the  bales  of  scarlet  cloth  and  the  various 
trinkets  they  had  brought  with  them,  so  wrought  upon  the  old 
man  that  he  began  to  describe  the  country  beyond  the  mountains : 
if  they  were  able  to  pass  through  the  snow,  he  gave  them  to  un- 
derstand they  would  find  abundance  of  grass  six  inches  high  and 
no  snow.  This  far  he  had  been  on  elk  hunts,  and  he  brought  into 
the  camp  a  young  man  who  had  been  to  the  settlements.  Cap- 
tain gutter's  lordly  domain  was  only  about  seventy  miles  from 
them,  they  knew,  and  persuading  the  young  Indian  to  act  as 
guide,  they  provided  him  with  stouter  moccasins  than  he  was 
wearing,  and  comfortably  warm  clothing.  Arraying  himself  in 
the  blue  and  scarlet  cloth,  and  the.green  blanket  which  they  gave 
him,  he  strutted  about  the  camp  certainly  the  most  gorgeously 
attired  of  all  in  it.  Him,  with  two  others,  Fremont  kept  in  his 
own  lodge  that  night;  Carson,  TV  ho  had  previously  shown  them 
the  use  of  his  fire-arms,  lying  across  the  entrance. 

The  commander  address6d  his  men  upon  the  undertaking  the 
ne:at  day,  not  disguising  the  probable  hardships,  and  telling  them 
the  distances  as  he  had  calculated  them.  They  cheerfully  assen- 
ted to  his  decision,  and  preparations  for  departure  were  immedi- 


KIT   CARSON.  887 

ately  begun.  Provisions  were  very  low.  A  dog  which  had  been 
found  near  Salt  Lake  and  shared  their  life,  had  now  become  fat, 
and  being  killed  made  a  strengthening  meal  for  the  party.  There 
was  no  one  who  did  not  realize  the  difficulty  and  danger  of  the 
undertaking,  and  with  a  silence  unusual  to  the  light-hearted, 
talkative  Creoles,  they  set  out. 

The  sun  deepened  as  they  advanced.  One  man  with  his  horse 
led  the  way,  beating  down  a  path  for  the  others  until  both  were 
tired ;  falling  back  to  the  rear,  the  next  man  took  his  place.  The 
road  which  they  had  made  was  at  sunset  strewn  with  the  camp 
equipage,  the  horses  floundering  in  the  snow,  being  unable  to 
carry  anything.  Beaching  a  level  spot  protected  on  one  side  by 
the  mountain,  and  on  the  other  by  a  ridge  of  rock,  they  encamped 
for  the  night.  A  strong  wind  commenced  at  sunset,  and  the  night 
was  bitterly  cold — one  of  the  most  severe  they  had  yet  exper- 
ienced. Here  two  Indians  joined  them,  one  an  old  man  haran- 
guing them  at  considerable  length  regarding  the  difficulties  of 
the  particular  pass  they  had  chosen,  and  professing  his  ability 
to  show  them  a  better  way.  The  Indian  guide  was  much  affect- 
ed by  his  repetitions  of  "  Eock  upon  rock,  snow  upon  snow,  rock 
upon  rock,"  and  began  to  lament  having  left  his  own  people,  to 
die  before  he  reached  the  whites. 

Awaking  early  in  the  morning,  Fremont  saw  this  temporary 
guide  standing  shivering  before  the  fire,  and  threw  another  blan- 
ket over  the  Indian's  shoulders.  A  few  moments  afterwards 
they  missed  him  ;  he  had  deserted,  and  they  never  saw  him  again. 

A  part  of  the  day  was  spent  in  the  construction  of  snow-shoes 
and  sledges,  that  the  journey  might  be  completed  with  more 
ease.  Fremont  and  Carson  left  the  men  to  this  work,  and  climb- 
ed up  the  mountain  to  see  what  lay  before  them  ;  arrived  at  such 
a  point  in  the  pass  as  commanded  a  view  beyond  the  range,  Kit 
recognized  with  delight  the  lower  peaks  near  the  coast  with 
which  he  had  been  familiar  fifteen  years  before;  pointing  out  to 
the  leader  the  various  points  of  interest  as  marking  certain  ad- 
ventures. With  almost  incredible  difficulty  the  body  of  men  ad- 
vanced through  the  snow,  which  was  from  five  to  twenty  feet 
deep.  The  first  day  after  the  encampment  noted,  a  distance  of 
only  four  miles  was  traversed  ;  many  being  unused  to  snow-shoes, 
and  all  of  them  nearly  blinded  by  the  glaring  whiteness.  Days 
were  spent  in  beating  down  the  snow  with  mauls,  so  that  the 
animals  might  be  led  along  that  road ;  and  fifteen  days  -after  the 
25 


388 


KIT    CARSON. 


desertion  of  their  Indian  guide,  they  encamped  upon  the  summit 
of  the  pass,  a  thousand  miles  from  the  Columbia  Eiver.  The  val- 
ley lay  before  them,  and  they  thought  the  worst  was  over;  but 
the  descent  was  less  easy  than  might  have  been  thought.  Deep 
fields  of  snow  lay  beneath  them,  and  there  were  other,  though 


FREMONT  RESCUED  BY  CARSON. 

lower  mountains  to  be  crossed  ;  but  before  them  lay  the  goal,  and 
far  off  there  glittered  in  the  evening  sun  a  silver  line  and  a 
broad  expanse  of  azure — the  Sacramento  River  and  San  Francisco 
Bay.  Yet  so  often  had  they  been  deceived,  that  the  question 
arose  in  each  one's  mind:  "Is  it  not  another  salt  inland  lake? 


KIT    CARBON.  389 

Here  again  the  snow  must  be  beaten  down  to  make  a  roadway 
for  the  beasts  of  burden,  and  while  the  others  of  the  party  were 
engaged  in  this,  the  leader  and  the  guide  went  on  ahead  to  re- 
connoiter  and  select  the  best  possible  directions  for  the  path. 

Coming  to  a  small  stream  bordered  on  either  side  by  rocks, 
Carson  bounded  across,  landing  in  safety  upon  the  opposite  side, 
but  Fremont's  moccasin  glanced  from  the  icy  rock  and  he  fell  in- 
to the  little  river.  It  was  a  few  moments  before  he  could  recover 
himself,  and  Carson,  thinking  only  of  the  danger  to  his  leader, 
sprang  into  the  midst  of  the  floating  ice  to  rescue  him.  Happily,  no 
evil  results  ensued.  Slowly  the  work  of  making  a  road  went  on, 
and  at  a  snail's  pace  the  party  advanced  towards  the  valley.  Such 
were  the  hardships  which  they  underwent,  that  more  than  one 
strong  man  was  deranged  by  them.  At  last,  one  month  after  the 
first  encampment  upon  the  mountain-side,  they  reached  Mr.  Sut- 
ter's  ranch,  and  received  a  most  cordial  welcome. 

Carson  left  the  party  as  soon  as  his  services  were  no  longer 
necessary,  and  went  back  to  Taos.  Here  he  bought  a  farm,  built 
a  house,  and  settled  down  to  the  quiet,  uneventful  life  of  a  hard- 
working agriculturist.  Before  they  separated,  however,  he  had 
promised  Fremont  to  act  as  guide  again,  if  another  expedition 
should  be  organized  ;  and  when  that  officer,  in  the  spring  of  1845, 
sent  to  claim  the  fulfillment  of  that  promise,  Kit  sold  at  a  great 
sacrifice  the  property  that  he  had  accumulated,  and  placing  his 
family  under  the  protection  of  Messrs.  Bent  and  St.  Train,  went 
to  the  appointed  rendezvous.  The  story  of  the  early  part  of  this 
expedition  possesses  little  interest  to  us ;  it  is  only  when  the 
party  have  reached  California  that  the  plot  thickens.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  Texas,  which  nine  years  before  had  won  its  in- 
dependence from  Mexico  by  a  sanguinary  contest,  had  this  year 
made  a  successful  application  for  admission  into  the  Union;  and 
that  this  was  the  very  year  in  which  the  Mexican  "War  commen- 
ced. The  threats  of  the  Mexican  officers  in  California  somewhat 
alarmed  Fremont,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  begin  hostilities,  but  he 
was  permitted,  when  they  found  he  did  not  mean  to  withdraw, 
to  remain  and  finish  his  work.  But  although  openly  they  were 
friendly,  or  at  least  neutral,  the  Indians  were  instigated  by  them 
to  attack  the  Americans,  as  the  people  of  the  United  States  are 
called  by  both  Mexicans  and  Indians.  It  was  rumored  that  a 
thousand  warriors  were  on  their  way  there,  where  they  were  at 
the  time  intending  to  destroy  that  and  any  other  American  post. 


390  KIT    CARSON. 

Captain  Fremont  had  now  been  ten  days  at  Lawson's  Post, 
awaiting  opportunity  for  continuing  his  journey.  Finding,  how- 
ever, that  such  there  was  not  likely  to  be,  a  party  was  organized 
to  march  against  the  savages,  and  thus  aid  the  more  defenseless 
points.  "With  five  men  from  the  post,  besides  his  own  command, 
they  set  out.  Carson  having  been  elected  Lieutenant  of  the  com- 
pany, the  choice  of  the  leader  was  thus  confirmed  by  his  men. 
They  soon  found  the  trail  of  a  large  party  of  Indians,  and  follow- 
ing it  closely,  came  up  with  them.  The  savages  repelled  the 
attack  with  vigor  and  courage,  but  were  defeated  with  terrible 
slaughter,  and  retreated  in  dismay  to  their  fastnesses  in  the 
mountains.  The  newly-chosen  lieutenant  was  in  the  thickest  of 
the  fight,  as  always,  and  did  noble  execution  upon  the  enemies. 

Returning  to  Lawson's  Post,  they  completed  their  prepara- 
tions, and  recommenced  their  perilous  journey.  Fr'emont  had 
determined  to  return  bywa^y  of  Oregon,  and  open  up  a  new  road 
between  the  northern  and  southern  settlements.  Proceeding 
northward,  they  passed  several  days  in  tranquil  journeyings ; 
when  one  evening,  just  as  they  had  finished  preparations  for  the 
night,  they  were  surprised  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  two 
white  men  in  their  midst.  They  were  only  too  well  aware  of 
the  hardships  and  dangers  which  these  two  men  must  have  en- 
countered, and  accorded  them  a  hearty  welcome.  Warmed  and 
fed,  they  were  permitted  to  tell  their  story.  They  were  part  of 
a  detachment  of  six  men,  escorting  a  United  States  officer  across 
the  plains  with  despatches  for  various  points  in  California ;  he 
being  instructed,  after  these  despatches  should  have  been  deliv- 
ered, to  find  Capt.  Fremont  wherever  he  might  be.  They  had 
left  the  main  party  two  days  before,  and  had  only  escaped  from 
the  Indians,  that  pursued  them  more  than  once,  by  the  swiftness 
of  their  horses. 

Fremont  and  Carson,  with  a  picked  body  of  ten  men,  immedi- 
ately set  out  in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  messengers.  In  the 
trackless  wilderness,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  find  a  wandering 
party,  but  Carson  advised  a  halt  at  a  certain  pass,  and  here  the 
other  party  joined  them.  The  officer  proved  to  be  Lieut.  Gilles- 
pie,  with  letters  for  Fremont  from  his  family  —  the  first  news  he 
had  received  of  them  since  the  beginning  of  the  journey.  He 
sat  up  until  midnight,  keeping  up  a  good  fire,  but  as  the  men 
had  marched  sixty  miles  without  a  halt,  he  did  not  require  a 
guard  to  be  kept  for  the  remainder  of  the  night. 


klT    CARSON.  391 

At  last  the  fire  died  down;  the  commander  slept  as  soundly  as 
his  men — more  soundly  than  one  of  them.  An  unusual  sound,  a 
dull  thud  as  of  a  heavy  blow, — was  that  a  groan  ? — and  Carson's 
light  sleep  was  broken. 

"  What's  the  matter  there  ?"  he  called  to  Basil  Lajeunesse,  who 
lay  beside  him. 

No  answer  came.  Springing  up,  he  saw  in  far  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  tell  it,  that  the  blow  of  an  axe  had  crushed  in  the  heads 
of  Basil  and  his  next  neighbor — one  had  never  known  what  kill- 
ed him,  the  other  had  groaned  as  he  died.  Aroused  by  Kit's 
voice,  the  four  friendly  Delawares,  and,  a  moment  later,  the 
whites,  sprang  up.  Each  man  fought  for  his  life,  and  the  Indian 
chief  having  been  killed,  theKlamaths  fled.  Three  of  the  whites 
had  been  killed  and  one  of  the  Delawares  wounded.  These  very 
Indians  had  been  to  the  camp  a  few  days  before,  and  although 
there  was  little  meat  on  hand,  Capt.  Fremont  had  divided  with 
them,  and  had  even  unpacked  a  mule  to  give  them  knives  and 
tobacco. 

Sadly  they  left  the  encampment,  bearing  with  them  the  bodies 
of  their  fallen  comrades  as  long  as  they  could  carry  them;  then, 
because  a  grave  could  not  be  dug  in  that  hard  soil  without  im- 
plements, they  buried  them  under  the  fallen  timber.  They  did 
not  again  omit  the  precaution  of  placing  a  guard  at  night — espe- 
cially necessary,  since  the  Indians  throughout  the  whole  region 
were  in  arms.  Lieutenant  Gillcspie  had  brought  the  information 
that  war  with  Mexico  had  been  declared,  and  Fremont  deter- 
mined to  go  back  to  California.  Making  the  circuit  of  Klamath 
Lake,  he  encamped  at  a  spot  nearly  opposite  that  where  his  three 
men  had  been  killed,  and  sent  Carson,  with  ten  men,  forward  to 
see  if  there  w^ere  an  Indian  town  in  the  neighborhood,  leaving  an 
attack  to  his  discretion.  The  little  party  soon  came  upon  an  In- 
dian village  containing  about  fifty  lodges.  By  the  commotion 
in  the  town  they  knew  that  their  vicinity  had  been  discovered, 
and  lost  no  time  in  attacking  the  Klamaths.  The  Indians  fought 
as  all  men'  do  in  defending  their  homes,  but  were  at  length  com- 
pelled to  retreat,  and  Carson  and  his  party  took  possession  of 
the  village.  This  was  the  most  highly  adorned  of  any  that  they 
had  yet  seen,  and  the  lodges  were  provided  with  unusually  con- 
venient appliances  and  utensils  for  cooking;  but  Carson  felt  that 
its  destruction  was  necessary,  and  gave  orders  accordingly.  The 
ascending  smoke  gave  Fremont  notice  that  an  encounter  had 


KIT   CARSON. 


taken  place,  and  not  knowing  its  issue,  he  hurried  forward  with 
the  main  body;  but  he  arrived  only  in  time  to  hear  the  pleasant 
news  of  victory. 

They  moved  away  from  this  spot,  but  soon  Fremont  deter- 


CARSON  SAVED  BY  FREMONT. 


mined  to  punish  the  Indians  still  more,  if  possible.  So  he  sent 
back  a  party  of  twenty  to  the  ruins  of  the  village  to  lay  in  wait 
for  the  return  of  the  Indians,  who  would  naturally  soon  revisit 
it  and  look  after  their  dead.  Soon  about  fifty  savages  appeared, 


KIO?  CARSON.  393 

and  word  was  sent  to  the  main  body,  as  by  previous  arrangement. 
Fremont,  Carson  and  six  men  hastened  to  reinforce  the  party. 
On  approaching  the  ruins,  Carson  saw  only  one  Indian  wander- 
ing about,  and  dashed  at  him,  raising  his  rifle  to  fire;  but  the  gun 
only  snapped,  and  he  was  apparently  at  the  mercy  of  the  savage, 
who  instantly  drew  an  arrow  to  the  head  and  would  have  shot 
Carson  dead ;  but  Fremont  had  seen  his  friend's  danger,  and, 
plunging  the  rowels  into  the  side  of  his  horse,  he  reached,  knock- 
ed down  and  rode  over  the  Indian  before  the  arrow  could  leave 
the  bow,  thus  saving  Kit's  life  by  prompt  and  brave  action. 

Inspired  by  their  successes,  they  continued  on  their  journey  to 
the  valley  of  the  Sacramento'.  Four  days  after  the  attack  upon 
the  Indian  village  they  came  to  a  point  where  the  easiest  road 
led  through  a  deep  canon,  but  Carson,  scenting  danger  ahead, 
advised  another,  although  a  more  difficult  route.  It  was  well  that 
they  acted  upon  this  counsel,  for  a  large  party  of  the  Klamaths 
lay  in  ambush  in  the  narrow  passage.  Disappointed  at  this  fail- 
ure of  their  plans,  they  rushed  out  and  attacked  the  whites,  but 
were  repulsed  without  much  trouble.  One  old  warrior  stood  his 
ground,  advancing  from  tree  to  tree  cautiously,  and  shooting  rap- 
idly at  Carson  and  another  man  who  were  edging  their  way  to- 
wards him.  At  last,  an  unlucky  exposure  of  his  person  brought 
Kit's  rifle  into  position,  and  in  another  moment  the  ball  from  it 
had  reached  the  savage's  heart. 

Reaching  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento,  they  had  not  been  long 
in  camp  before  the  men  began  to  grow  restless  from  inactivity, 
and  Fremont  decided  not  to  wait  for  positive  orders.  Sonoma 
was  taken,  and  Monterey  would  have  yielded  to  them  if  Commo- 
dore Sloat  had  not  anticipated  them.  The  Americans  in  Cali- 
fornia rallied  in  great  numbers  around  Fremont's  party,  inde- 
pendence of  Mexican  rule  was  declared  by  them,  and  the  Bear 
Flag  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes  floated  side  by  side  over  the  camp. 
San  Diego  was  taken  after  Los  Angelos  had  been  occupied  and 
abandoned,  and  here  Commodore  Stockton  established  himself, 
appointing  Col.  Fremont  Governor  of  California,  and  Carson, 
with  a  force  of  fifteen  men,  was  sent  with  despatches  to  Wash- 
ington. He  was  instructed  to  make  the  journey  in  sixty  days  if 
possible;  this  he  felt  confident  he  could  do.  Coming  upon  a  par- 
ty of  Apache  Indians,  his  boldness  disconcerted  them,  and  they 
provided  him  with  fresh  horses  for  the  continuance  of  his  jour- 
ney. His  friendly  relations,  personally,  with  the  Mexicans,  en. 


394  KIT   CARSON.      ' 

abled  him  to  obtain  from  them  a  fresh  supply  of  food.  He  was 
not  far  from  Taos  when  he  descried  a  speck  moving  across  the 
prairies,  which  he  knew  could  not  be  any  natural  object.  As  it 
drew  nearer,  he  found  it  was  an  expedition  sent  out  by  the  Uni- 
ted States  Government,  under  the  command  of  General  Kearney, 
for  the  relief  of  the  few  men  in  California.  Ho  lost  no  time  in 
presenting  himself  to  this  officer,  describing  the  state  of  affairs 
there  and  the  nature  of  his  errand.  Gen.  Kearney  proposed  that 
Carson  should  turn  over  the  despatches  to  another  messenger, 
and  return  with  him  and  his  command  to  California.  Kit  knew 
that  the  successful  bearer  of  despatches  would  be  recognized  by 
the  Government  as  a  valuable  servant;  he  was  within  a  short 
journey  of  his  family,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  many  weary 
months  ;  but  he  knew,  also,  what  his  services  would  be  worth  to 
Kearney,  and  with  a  cheerful  "  As  the  General  pleases/'  gave  up 
the  papers  to  the  messenger  selected,  and  took  up  the  march  back 
to  California. 

From  the  eighteenth  of  ( October  until  the  third  of  December, 
they  were  on  the  road ;  camping  on  the  evening  of  the  latter  date 
within  the  limits  of  California,  and  advancing  the  next  morning 
toward  San  Diego.  A  scouting  party  under  Carson's  command 
captured  and  brought  into  camp  some  spies  that  had  been  sent  out 
by  Gen.  Castro,  then  in  Los  Angelos.  These  being  forced  to  give 
information,  told  them  that  the  Mexicans  were  planning  to  at- 
tack them  before  they  could  join  their  allies  in  San  Diego.  Car- 
son, thoroughly  familiar  with  both  parties,  advised  Kearney  to 
evade  this  attack,  while  his  men  and  horses  were  exhausted  by 
reason  of  the  long  journey,  and  to  take  another  route.  Kearney, 
acquainted  only  with  the  Mexicans  in  the  eastern  part  of  their 
country,  where  he  was  accustomed  to  take  towns  by  simply  sum- 
moning the  alcalde  to  surrender,  and  not  knowing  that  those  in 
California  had  acquired  the  energy  and  courage  of  his  own  coun- 
trymen, persisted  in  keeping  the  same  route.  Approaching  with- 
in fifteen  miles  of  the  enemy's  forces,  a  reconnoitering  party  re- 
ported that  they  were  encamped  and  strongly  fortified  in  an  In- 
dian village.  The  scout  was  discovered  and  pursued,  but  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  camp  in  safety. 

Gen.  Kearney  determined  to  attack  them  without  delay,  and 
for  that  purpose  ordered  an  advance  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. Tired  and  hungry,  the  troops  came  upon  the  Mexican 
advance  guard  before  day.  These  men,  stationed  here  to  prevent 


__... 

MEXICAN  TOWNS  SURRENDERING  TO  GEN.  KEAKNEY. 


396  KIT   CARSON. 

a  surprise,  slept  fully  dressed,  with  their  saddles  as  pillows,  and 
their  horses  picketed  near  by,  so  that  each  man  could  be  ready 
to  repulse  an  attack  as  soon  as  awakened  by  the  neighborhood 
of  an  enemy.  The  attacking  force  consisted  of  fifteen  Ameri- 
cans, under  the  command  of  Capt.  Johnson,  with  Carson  as 
second  officer.  The  guard  drew  back  into  camp,  and  the  party 
under  Johnson  and  Carson  was  reinforced- by  Capt.  Moore,  with 
twenty-five  men.  Moore  ordered  an  attack  upon  the  enemy's 
center,  hoping  to  effect  a  division  and  create  confusion  in  the 
camp.  Onward  they  rode  "  into  the  jaws  of  death."  Carson's 
horse  stumbled  and  fell,  carry  ing  the  rider  to  the  ground.  There 
he  lay,  unable  to  rise  until  the  whole  body  of  horsemen  should 
have  galloped  past.  Rising  as  soon  as  they  passed  him,  he 
caught  up  a  gun  from  the  hand  of  a  dead  comrade  (for  his  own 
had  been  shivered  to  pieces  by  the  fall),  mounted  and  rode  on- 
ward. Many  of  the  men  were  mounted  on  mules  which  proved 
unmanageable,  and  although  the  Mexicans  were  forced  to  retreat 
a  short  distance,  they  soon  discovered  the  condition  of  the 
Americans,  and  turning  back,  transformed  what  would  have  been 
a  nearly  bloodless  victory  into  a  terrible  slaughter.  Thirty  of 
the  forty  mounted  on  horses  were  either  killed  or  severely 
wounded,  and  although  the  main  party  of  the  Americans  came 
up  to  reinforce  their  comrades,  the  Mexicans  fought  with  such 
fierce  courage  that  it  seemed  a  hopeless  case.  Gen.  Kearney, 
although  wounded,  remained  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  hoping 
that  two  mountain  howitzers,  which  were  to  be  brought  up, 
would  materially  assist  his  efforts  to  force  the  Mexicans  to  re- 
treat. But  they  had  not  been  made  ready  for  use  before  the 
gunners  were  shot  down,  and  the  lasso  captured  the  horses  at- 
tached to  one.  Some  fortunate  accident  or  ignorance  rendered 
the  Mexicans  unable  to  use  the  gun,  or  still  greater  slaughter 
might  have  ensued. 

Retreating  to  the  rocky  shelter  near  by,  the  Americans,  who 
had  only  three  officers,  including  Carson,  remaining,  waited  for 
pursuit  from  the  enemy.  Both  sides  were  exhausted  by  the  long 
day's  fighting,  and  neither  cheered  by  the  consciousness  of  a  de- 
cided victory.  The  winter  night  was  spent  in  burying  the  dead 
and  tending  the  wounded ;  while  the  enemy  was  receiving  rein- 
forcements of  both  Mexicans  and  Indians. 

The  next  morning  they  took  up  the  line  of  march  towards  San 
Diego,  as  had  been  decided  in  the  council  of  war  held  during  the 


KIT  CARSON.  397 

night ;  Carson,  with  a  body  of  twenty -five  able-bodied  men  lead- 
ing the  way,  followed  by  the  .wounded  and  those  employed  in 
tending  and  transporting  them.  They  were  about  to  encamp  by 
a  stream  of  water  for  the  night,  when  the  Mexicans  made  a  vig- 
orous charge  upon  them.  Unable  in  their  weakened  condition 
to  support  an  attack  from  such  superior  numbers,  they  were  obli- 
ged to  give  way,  and  retired  to  a  hill  a  short  distance  off.  The 
Mexicans  drew  off  to  a  neighboring  height,  and  commenced  a 
deadly  cannonade;  but  were  dislodged  by  a  party  of  Americans, 
and  the  eminence  was  soon  occupied  by  the  main  body  of  Kearney's 
men.  They  were  without  food,  and  there  was  only  water  enough 
for  the  men.  Their  condition  was  desperate,  and  only  desperate 
measures  could  be  proposed  in  the  council  of  war  which  was 
held.  Carson  listened  to  what  the  others  had  to  say,  and  then 
rose  in  the  council  and  said  : 

"  Our  case  is  a  desperate  one,  but  there  is  yet  hope.  If  we  stay 
here,  we  are  all  dead  men ;  our  animals  cannot  last  long,  and  the 
soldiers  and  marines  at  San  Diego  do  not  know  that  we  are  com- 
ing. But  if  they  receive  information  of  our  position,  they  will 
hasten  to  the  rescue.  There  is  no  use  thinking  how  or  why  we 
are  here,  but  only  when  and  how  we  are  going  to  get  away.  I 
will  attempt  to  go  through  the  Mexican  lines  to  San  Diego,  and 
get  relief  from  Commodore  Stockton." 

Lieutenant  Bcale,  of  the  United  States  Navy,  since  widely  and 
favorably  known  as  an  explorer,  volunteered  to  accompany  him, 
and  the  proposition  being  accepted  by  Gen.  Kearney,  they  left 
the  camp  as  soon  as  it  was  sufficiently  dark.  They  had  learned 
from  their  Indian  allies  the  habit  of  putting  the  ear  to  the  ground 
to  hear  any  suspected  noise,  and  were  thus  able  to  inform  them- 
selves of  the  movements  of  their  enemies,  sometimes  when  those 
enemies  were  most  confident  of  a  secret  advance  or  retreat.  The 
two  messengers  accordingly  took  off  their  shoes  in  order  to  insure 
silence.  They  found  that  the  Mexicans  had  placed  three  lines 
of  sentinels  around  the  hill  on  which  the  Americans  were  en- 
camped, thus  making  it  extremely  difficult  to  evade  their  watch. 
Several  times,  as  they  crept  cautiously  along  the  earth,  the  sen- 
tinel might  easily  have  touched  them  with  the  long  barrel  of  his 
gun.  Slowly  they  advanced,  and  at  last  got  clear  of  the  Mex- 
ican lines,  though  not  of  all  difficulties.  For  the  distance  of  two 
miles  they  had  crawled  upon  the  ground,  sometimes  each  hear- 
ing the  other's  heart  beat  in  the  deathly  stillness.  At  last 


3  KIT    CARSOtf. 

they  could  spring  to  their  feet,  and  speak  to  each  other  their  joy 
at  escaping  thus  far.  But  they  must  avoid  the  beaten  road,  lest 
they  be  pursued  and  captured  ;  and  through  the  bushes  they  trod 
with  shoeless  feet,  the  earth  covered  with  the  thorns  of  the  prick- 
ly pear.  All  that  night,  all  the  next  day,  far  into  the  next  night 
they  continued  their  journey.  At  last  the  challenge  of  the  sen- 
tinel at  San  Diego  was  heard ;  they  answered,  "  Friends,"  and  were 
taken  into  the  presence  of  Commodore  Stockton.  Their  story 
was  told,  and  a  force  of  two  hundred  men  ordered  to  proceed 
by  forced  marches  to  the  relief  of  their  suffering  countrymen. 

Carson  was  detained  in  San  Diego,  as  without  proper  care  there 
was  danger  of  his  losing  both  his  feet,  so  much  had  they  been  lac- 
erated on  thisjiterally  "  thorny  path  of  duty."  Lieutenant  Beale 
was  partially  deranged  by  the  hardships  of  the  journey,  and  did 
not  fully  recover  his  physical  health  for  two  years. 

Gen.  Kearney's  troops  and  the  escort  sent,  reached  San  Diego 
without  being  molested  again  by  the  Mexicans,  whose  numbers 
were  not  sufficient  to  justify  them  in  attacking  so  large  and  strong 
a  force.  The  Americans  remained  for  several  weeks  in  garrison, 
recruiting  their  strength.  A  force  of  six  hundred  at  last  took  the 
field  under  Gen.  Kearney  and  Com.  Stockton,  to  march  against 
Los  Angclos,  where  there  were  about  seven  hundred  of  the 
enemy.  The  Mexicans  were  soon  forced  to  break  up  the  camp 
which  they  had  established  just  outside  the  town,  and  the  Amer- 
icans took  possession  of  Los  Angclos.  Their  success  was  an 
empty  one,  however,  for  the  Mexicans  evaded  their  pursuit,  sur- 
rendering to  Col.  Fremont,  who,  with  a  force  of  four  hundred 
men,  was  marching  from  Monterey  to  Los  Angelos.  Acting  on 
Carson's  advice,  Fremont  had  used  every  effort,  during  his  en- 
tire stay  in  California,  to  propitiate  the  Mexicans ;  but  Kearney, 
judging  them  by  the  natives  of  what  is  now  eastern  Mexico,  was 
at  no  pains  to  conceal  his  contempt  and  aversion.  This  attitude 
was  an  unfortunate  one,  as,  if  Fremont  had  been  in  command, 
the  struggle  upon  the  Pacific  coast  would  have  been  much  less 
sanguinary;  his  policy  of  conciliation  would  have  won  over  many 
of  the  Mexicans  who  admired  their  American  friends  and*wished 
to  imitate  them. 

During-the  few  succeeding  months  of  the  war  there  was  a  lull 
in  the  hostilities  in  this  portion  of  the  country.  Stockton  was 
made  civil  governor,  Fremont  general-in-chief  of  the  California 
forces,  with  Carson  for  his  first  lieutenant.  An  Englishman,  who 


KIT    CARSON. 


399 


landed  in  July,  1846,  at  Monterey,  from  a  British  man-of-war 
which  had  been  sent  there,  thus  describes  Fremont  and  his  men: 

"  Fremont  rode  ahead,  a  spare,  active  looking  man,  with  such 
an  eye.  He  was  dressed  in  a  blouse  and  leggings,  and  wore  a 
felt  hat.  After  him  came  five  Delaware  Indians,  who  were  his 
body-guard,  and  have  been  with  him  through  all  his  wanderings. 
The  rest,  many  of  them  blacker  than  the  Indians,  rode  two  and 
two,  the  rifle  held  by  one  hand  across  the  pommel  of  the  saddle, 
.  .  .  .  He  has  one  or  two  with  him  who  enjoy  a  high  repu- 
tation in  the  prairies. 
Kit  Carson  is  as  well 
known  there  as  the 
Duke  of  Wellington 
is  in  Europe.  The 
dress  of  these  men 
was  principally  a 
long,  loose  coat  of 
deer-skin,  tied  with 
thongs  in  front; 
trowsers  of  the  same, 
of  their  own  manu- 
facture." 

Carson  had  joined 
Col.  Fremont  as  soon 
as  it  was  possible  for 
him  to  leave  Kear- 
ney, and  was  gladly 
welcomed.  In  March, 
1847,  he  was  again 
entrusted  with  de- 
spatches for  Washington,  Lieutenant  Bcale  being  detailed  to 
accompany  him  with  reports  for  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy.  The 
companion  of  his  perilous  journey  from  Kearney's  camp  to  San 
Diego  was  still  so  weak  that  Carson,  for  the  first  twenty  days 
of  the  journey,  had  to  lift  him  off  and  on  his  horse ;  but  the 
pure  air,  healthful  exercise  and  genial  companionship  soon 
strengthened  him. 

The  long  journey  was  accomplished  without  harm  to  any  of  the 
party.  The  incidents  of  the  journey  were  such  as  in  these  days 
of  rapid  and  safe  transportation  would  be  alarming,  but  then 
were  regarded  as  every-day  affairs.  Arrived  in  St.  Louis,  Col. 


GEN.  JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 


400  KIT    CARSON. 

Benton  received  him  cordially.  In  "Washington  Mrs.  Fremont 
met  him  at  the  depot,  and  declaring  that  her  husband's  descrip- 
tion had  made  an  introduction  unnecessary,  conducted  him  to  her 
own  and  her  father's  house.  He  was  lionized  to  an  extent  quite 
puzzling  to  himself — he  had  only  done  what  he  ought, — the 
GJ-overnment's  recognition  of  his  services  being  a  lieutenant's 
commission  in  Col.  Fremont's  regiment.  In  command  of  fifty 
men,  he  started  on  the  return  trip,  which  was  made  in  complete 
safety  until  the  "  Point  of  Rocks  "  was  reached.  Here,  a  spur 
of  rocky  hills  gives-  shelter  to  an  ambush,  while  the  grass  and 
water  at  their  base  invite  the  caravan  to  encamp.  The  horses  and 
cattle  of  a  volunteer  company  camping  here  were  stolen  by  the 
Indians,  but  sueh  was  the  confusion  that  followed,  that  Carson, 
who  was  resting  near  by  for  the  night,  proved  that  his  right  to 
the  title  of  the  "Thief-Taker"  had  not  diminished,  and  the  ani- 
mals were  all  restored  to  their  owners  by  him. 

The  succeeding  spring  (1848)  he  was  again  sent  to  Washington 
as  the  bearer  of  despatches.  At  Santa  Fe  he  learned  that  his 
appointment,  made  by  the  President,  had  not  been  confirmed  by 
the  Senate,  and  was  urged  to  leave  the  dangers  to  be  encounter- 
ed by  those  who  reaped  the  rewards  due  him.  But  although  he 
had  seen  evidences  of  unworthy  favoritism  and  gratification  of 
political  rivalries,  he  had  no  notion  of  letting  such  things  influ- 
ence his  own  conduct.  The  mission  was  successfully  accomplish- 
ed, and,  avoiding  all  difficulties  with  the  Apaches,  he  returned 
in  safety  to  his  home  at  Taos,  and  settled  to  his  old,  peaceful  oc- 
cupation. Here  he  entertained  his  old  commander  and  the  par- 
ty engaged  in  making  a  winter  survey  of  a  pass  for  a  road  to 
California.  An  old  trapper  of  twenty-five  years' experience  had 
been  employed  as  guide,  but  so  incompetent  was  he  for  the  work, 
that  they  blundered  for  half  a  month  through  the  deep  snow. 
Fully  one-third  of  the  party  died  from  starvation  and  freezing. 

Life  at  Taos  was  interrupted  by  occasional  expeditions  as 
guide.  On  the  banks  of  the  broad  mountain  stream  that  flows 
through  the  valley,  stood  the  comfortable  houses  of  Carson  and 
his  friend  Maxwell.  To  both,  but  especially  to  the  former,  came 
the  small,  lithe  Apaches,  and  the  Comanches,  nearly  half  Mexi- 
can in  blood;  they  feared  not  to  come  to  the  home  of  "  Father 
Kit,"  as  they  have  called  him.  But  like  a  judicious  parent,  he 
never  hesitated  to  chastise  his  self-styled  children,  as  more  than 
one  incident  bears  witness. 


KIT   CARSON.  401 

In  the  winter  of  1849-50,  the  Indians  were  more  than  usually 
troublesome.  On  one  occasion,  a  party  of  them  had  stolen  all 
the  horses  belonging  to  a  detachment  often  dragoons,  encamped 
in  the  vicinity  of  Taos.  An  expedition  was  immediately  organ- 
ized, consisting  of  three  settlers,  and  the  soldiers  who  had  been 
robbed,  under  the  command  of  Carson,  by  whom  it  had  been 
planned.  Four  of  the  party,  being  but  poorly  mounted,  fell  be- 
hind, and  the  remaining  ten  came  up  with  the  thieves.  There 
were  twenty  warriors,  all  well-armed  and  well-mounted ;  and 
they  had  no  notion  of  giving  up  their  booty.  Had  they  been 
content  to  abandon  the  animals  to  their  rightful  owners,  they 
would  have  escaped,  but  as  it  was,  the  sharp  conflict  which  fol- 
lowed resulted  in  the  loss  of  five  warriors.  Perceiving  that  the 
leader  of  their  enemies  was  the  one  who  had  never  yet  been  de- 
feated by  them,  they  rode  off,  leaving  all  the  stolen  horses  but 
four  to  the  attacking  party. 

But  it  was  only  occasionally  that  the  peacefulness  of  his  life 
was  thus  interrupted.  Learning  at  some  time  during  the  next 
summer,  that  a  number  of  desperadoes  had  volunteered  to  ac- 
company two  wealthy  men  to  the  settlements  in  the  states,  in- 
tending to  rob  them  by  the  way,  Carson  collected  a  party,  and  in 
one  hour  from  the  time  of  receiving  the  information,  was  follow- 
ing them.  The  first  party  had  been  gone  some  time  when  he  learn- 
ed of  the  plot,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  overtake  them.  At  a  distance 
from  Taos  representing  two  days'  march  a  recruiting  o nicer  join- 
ed Kit  with  twenty  men,  and  by  forced  marches  soon  overtook 
the  caravans,  and  arrested  the  ring-leader.  Messrs.  Brevoort 
and  Weatherhead,  when  informed  of  the  danger,  quickly  recov- 
ered from  their  first  surprise,  and  offered  a  reward  proportion- 
ate to  the  service  done.  This,  however,  Carson  was  resolute  in 
refusing,  until,  when  the  traders  returned  from  St.  Louis,  they 
presented  him  with  a  handsome  pair  of  silver-mounted  pistols, 
suitably  inscribed. 

The  next  summer,  he  started  to  St.  Louis  as  a  trader,  intend- 
ing also  to  visit  his  daughter,  who  was  married  and  living  there. 
On  his  return,  he  met  with  what  was  perhaps  the  most  perilous 
adventure  of  his  life  after  the  close  of  the  war  with  Mexico.  The 
officer  of  a  party  of  United  States  troops  bound  to  !N~cw  Mexico 
had  affronted  the  Cheyenne  Indians  by  whipping  one  of  their 
chiefs.  The  Indians  were  unable  to  revenge  this  insult  upon  the 
real  offender,  but,  full  of  vindictive  rage,  were  lying  in  wait  for 


402  KIT   CARSON. 

other  and  weaker  bodies  of  white  men.     Carson's  chanced  to  be 
the  next  party  with  which  they  met,  and,  in  consequence,  was 
the  one  which  must  feel  the  weight  of  their  anger.     The  fifteen 
white  men  were  taken  prisoners,  and  were  placed  in  the  midst  of 
a  circle  of  warriors.    As  the  warriors  arranged  all  the  details  to 
their  satisfaction,  settling  how  they  should  dispose  of  the  booty 
and  when  the  prisoners  should  be  put  to  death,  Kit  revolved 
their  situation  in  his  own  mind.     Well  known  and  loved  by  this 
very  tribe  while  he  was  acting  as  hunter  for  Bent's  Fort,  so  many 
years  had  passed  since  then,  so  many  insults  and  injuries  had 
been  heaped  upon  them,  so  many  incompetent  men  had  been  sent 
to  fight  them,  that  they  had  lost  their  old  reverence  for  his  name, 
as  they  lu;d  forgotten  his  face.     The  Indians  had  spoken  in  their 
own  tongue,  thinking  that  it  was  not  understood  by  the  prison- 
ers; judge  of  their  surprise,  then,  when  the  captive  leader  step- 
ped forward  and  addressed  them  in  Cheyenne.  He  told  them  his 
name,  and  reminded  them  of  past  friendship ;  hinting  at  the  pun- 
ishment which  would  certainly  follow  if  they  put  his  party  to 
death.    The  Indians  released  them,  but  Carson  proceeded  cau- 
tiously, knowing  that  he  was  by  no  means  safe.    After  they  had 
encamped  for  the  night,  he  despatched  a  Mexican  boy,  in  whom  he 
had  great  confidence,  to  Eayedo,  to  ask  for  reinforcements;  so 
that  when  five  warriors  galloped  towards  him  the  next  day,  they 
were  somewhat  astonished  to  see  his  force.     The  rapid  march 
of  the  troops,  in  accordance  with  the  request,  did  the  Indians 
much  good,  as  they  thus  learned  the  spirit  animating  the  soldiers. 
A  long  journey  undertaken  for  the  purpose  of  trapping  on  the 
old  familiar  ground,  a  trip  overland  to  California  with  large  flocks 
of  sheep,  for  a  trading  venture ;   a  lionizing  in  the  early  days 
of  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  strangely   changed  between  1848 
and  '53 ;  faithful  performance  of  his  duties  as  Indian  Agent  for 
~New  Mexico,  to  w^hich  post  he  was  appointed  late  in  the  year 
1853;  promotion  from  rank  to  rank  during  the  Civil  War,  until 
he  was  brevetted  Brigadier-General ;  important  services  to  the 
government  in  the  task  of  subduing  and  conciliating  the  Indians ; 
all  these  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  days.     Adventures,  which  to 
us  would  seem  hair-breadth  escapes,  were  passed  by  as  every  day 
occurrences  in  his  life,  and  rarely  chronicled  by  any  one.     He 
died  at  Fort  Lyon,  Col.,  in  May,  1868.     Nearly  fifteen  years  have 
passed  since  then,  but  the  memory  of  the  "  Monarch  of  the  Prai- 
ries" is  kept  green  by  those  who  love  tales  of  border  adventure. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


GENERAL  "WILLIAM  S.  HARNEY. 

A  LTHOTJGH  settled  as  early  as  1756,  at  the  close  of  the  last 
.jLJ^century,  Tennessee,  the  late  state  admitted  into  the  union, 
was  little  more  than  a  wilderness,  except  around  those  centers 
of  civilization  where  had  been  the  first  settlements.  To  its  wilds 
had  already  been  attracted  some  of  the  most  daring  and  patriotic 
spirits  of  the  time ;  the  Hermitage  was  not  yet  built,  but  already 
the  name  of  Jackson  was  prominent  in  its  annals  j  from  this  state 
was  Missouri  to  call  that  man,  who  sat  longer  than  any  other  in 
the  highest  council  of  the  nation  ;  here  were  Crockett  and  Hous- 
ton to  become  known  thereafter;  here  had  removed  a  gallant 
officer  of  the  Revolutionary  army,.  Major  Thomas  Harney,  and 
here,  in  August,  1800,  was  born  the  youngest  of  his  six  sons, 
William  Selby  Harney. 

Left  a  widow  when  her  children  were  all  young,  Mrs.  Harney 
intended  her  youngest  son  for  a  sailor,  but  destiny  overruled 
her  wishes.  The  youth  of  seventeen  visited,  during  one  of  his 
school  vacations,  an  elder  brother  serving  as  army  surgeon  at 
Baton  Rouge.  Attracting  the  attention  and  acquiring  the  friend- 
ship of  Gen.  Jessup,  who  was  in  command,  he  was  asked  by  that 
officer  if  he  did  not  wish  to  enter  the  army.  He  replied  that 
his  mother  intended  him  for  the  navy,  but  a  few  days  afterwards 
Gen.  Jessup  handed  him  a  commission  as  second  lieutenant. 
This  bore  the  date  of  Feb.  13,  1818,  and  in  June  of  the  same 
year  the  young  officer,  not  yet  eighteen  years  old,  joined  his 
regiment,  then  serving  in  Louisiana. 

His  first  active  service  was  against  the  pirates  who  then  in- 
fested the  Gulf  coast.  There  had  never  been  a  time,  since  the 
sixteenth  century,  when  piracy  did  not  exist  in  the  waters  wash- 
ing the  shores  of  Louisiana,  Florida  and  Cuba.  For  many  years 
the  commander  of  these  outlaws  had  been  the  elder  of  the  two 
brothers  Lafitte,  themselves  French,  and  disposed  to  be  friends 
26 


4C4  GENERAL   WILLIAM    S.    HARNEY. 

with  those  of  their  own  race  in  Louisiana.  It  was  to  secure  the 
aid  of  this  lawless  host  that  Gen.  Jackson,  in  1814,  declared 
martial  law  in  Louisiana,  and  ordered  off  the  bench  the  judge 
who  refused  to  release  the  Lafittes  then  awaiting  trial.  It  is 
doubtful  if  the  famous  battle  could  have  been  gained  without  them, 
and  Gen.  Jackson  secured  the  pardon  of  the  brothers,  on  condition 
that  they  abandon  the  life  they  had  been  leading.  The  condi- 
tion was  faithfully  observed,  and  the  pirates  being  left  without 

a  leader,  were  scattered  abroad 
to  commit  lesser  depredations. 
It  was  to  pursue  and  punish 
some  of  these  that  Lieutenant 
Harney's  company  was  sent 
soon  after  he  joined. 

On  reaching  the  archipelago, 
the  company  made  their  head- 
quarters at  J^ew,  near  Navia 
Bay,  whence  a  detachment  un- 
der Lieut.  Harney  was  sent  to 
ascend  the  bay  to  reconnoiter. 
Here  he  discovered  and  took 

"GEN.  w.  s.  HAKNEY.  possession  of  some  vessels  bal- 

lasted with  bar-iron.  Examination  showed  that  the  bars  were  hol- 
low, and  filled  with  quicksilver.  The  detachment  was  delayed  so 
long  that  the  main  body  supposed  all  the  men  in  it  had  been  kill- 
ed, and  were  considerably  surprised  to  learn  of  their  safe  return 
with  the  prize  they  had  captured. 

Cruising  with  his  detachment  in  a  boat  on  the  bay,  Lieut.  Har- 
ney signaled  a  small  sailing  vessel.  She  hove  to,  and  the  detach- 
ment boarded  her. 

"  Let  me  see  your  papers,  sir,"  demanded  their  officer  of  the 
captain.  Descending  into  the  cabin,  the  commander  reappeared 
with  what  he  claimed  was  his  ship's  register.  As  the  lieutenant 
looked  at  them,  a  voice  in  jhis  ear  said  : 

"  The  captain  has  just  given  his  men  orders,  in  French,  to  get 
ready  to  fight." 

In  a  moment  the  crew  had  been  secured,  the  captain  having 
been  thrown  down  the  hatchway,  and  the  lieutenant  and  his  men 
returned  in  triumph  with  the  smuggler.  So  closed  his  first  cam- 
paign. Soon  after  his  return  in  January,  1819,  he  was  ordered 
to  Boston  on  recruiting  service,  where  he  remained  for  more  than 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.    HARNEY.  405 

a  year.  Ordered  to  report  for  active  duty  in  June,  1820,  he  was 
selected  by  Gen.  Jackson,  his  father's  friend  and  neighbor,  to 
serve  as  temporary  aid  during  the  absence  of  an  officer  on  his 
staff.  Jackson  was  at  this  time  acting  as  governor  of  Florida, 
which  had  been  but  recently  purchased  of  Spain,  and  honored 
Lieut.  Harney  with  the  command  of  the  guard  attendant  on  the 
transfer  of  the  territory  from  one  government  to  another.  It  is 
not  yet  that  we  find  him  engaged  in  that  active  service  which 
has  connected  his  name  alike  with  the  everglades  of  Florida  and 
the  wilds  of  Oregon. 

It  was  in  1824,  after  he  had  exchanged  into  the  artillery,  that 
Lieut.  Harney  first  saw  St.  Louis,  to  be  in  future  the  home  to 
which  he  should  look  with  longing  eyes.  The  peculiarly  French 
gaiety  which  then  distinguished  the  society  of  this  city,  was 
particularly  to  the  taste  of  the  young  lieutenant,  with  animal 
spirits,  and  possessed  of  physical  advantages  which  secured  him 
the  favor  of  the  ladies.  Ordered  to  proceed  to  Council  Bluffs, 
the  orders  were  countermanded  soon  after  they  started,  and  the 
four  companies  wintered  at  Bellefontaine,  fifteen  miles  above  the 
city ;  whence  in  the  spring  they  resumed  the  perilous  journey 
in  keel-boats  up  the  Missouri,  on  the  banks  of  which,  above 
Boonville,  were  no  white  settlements. 

Arriving  safely  at  Two  Thousand  Mile  Creek,  a  council  was 
held  with  the  Crows,  Mandans  and  Gros-Yentres,  which,  but 
for  Lieut.  Harney,  might  have  terminated  most  disastrously. 
One  of  the  conditions  of  the  treaty  was  the  restoration  of  a 
family  of  British  subjects  that  had  been  taken  prisoners,  and  for 
whose  liberation  the  English  minister  had  asked.  The  inter- 
preter finished,  stating  all  the  details,  and  the  chiefs  sat  motion- 
less. After  a  moment's  pause,  one  arose  and  said  that  they  were 
willing  to  liberate  the  captives,  but  a  ransom  must  be  paid.  Ir- 
ritable by  reason  of  a  recent  illness,  one  of  the  commissioners, 
Major  O'Fallon,  lost  his  temper  at  the  cool  audacity  of  the  chief, 
and  advancing  into  the  circle  struck  first  the  sp;eaker  and  then 
two  other  chiefs  over  the  head  and  face  with  his  horse-pistol. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  the  outraged  chiefs  or  the  start- 
led Americans,  as  a  comrade  caught  the  offender  before  he  could 
strike  another  of  the  Indians;  but  the  savage  warriors  seized 
their  arms  and  assumed  a  defensive  or  offensive  attitude.  It  was 
a  moment  of  extreme  peril,  for  the  Indians  far  outnumbered  the 
whites. 


406  GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.   HARNEY. 

The  disciplined  troops  were  called  to  arms,  and  the  commis- 
sioners tried  to  explain  to  the  Indians  that  Major  O'Fallon's  action 
was  the  result  of  delirium.  The  explanation  was  received  in  grim 
silence,  and  when  Lieut.  Harney,  with  outstretched  hand,  advan- 
ced towards  the  Crow  chief,  the  Indian,  folding  his  arms,  looked 
at  him  in  sullen  defiance.  Cursing  the  chief,  he  looked  him  stead- 
ily in  the  eye  for  a  few  moments ;  finally  the  chief  took  the  ex- 
tended hand.  Order  was  restored  and  the  negotiations  contin- 
ued; the  family  was  released  on  payment  of  the  ransom  demand- 
ed, and  a  treaty  of  peace  concluded. 

Lieutenant  Harney,  a  tall,  spare  man,  possessed  of  powers  of 
endurance  equal  to  his  strength,  had  acquired  a  reputation  as  a 
runner  that  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  tribes  dwelling  on  the 
upper  Missouri,  and  they  were  extremely  anxious  to  test  his 
fleetness.  He  had  a  race  with  a  Crow  Indian,  but  encumbered 
with  his  uniform,  with  his  pockets  full  of  relics  and  curiosities 
he  had  been  buying  from  them,  the  Indian  won.  Harney  grace- 
fully acknowledged  the  defeat,  and  challenged  his  antagonist  to 
another  race  the  next  day.  The  Indians  retired  well  pleased  with 
the  success  of  their  champion,  and  returned  the  next  day  at  the 
appointed  time  and  place,  laden  with  buffalo  robes,  tobacco,  and 
all  the  ornaments  and  treasures  they  could  muster  for  a  reward  to 
the  winner.  Over  a  level,  grassy  prairie  they  ran,  and  for  some 
distance  the  Indian  was  in  the  lead. 

"A  little  faster,  Harney,  or  he'll  beat  you,"  cried  a  brother 
officer,  jealous  for  his  comrade's  reputation.  Benewing  his  ef- 
forts, he  soon  passed  the  Indian,  and  was  the  first  to  reach  the 
goal,  a  half-mile  from  the  starting  point. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  had  you  lose  that  race  for  a  thousand  dol- 
lars," said  Gen.  Atkinson.  Both  sides  felt  much  interest  in  the 
race,  and  his  fleetness  of  foot  raised  him  greatly  in  the  consider- 
ation of  the  Indians. 

Eeturning  to  the  east,  at  Council  Bluffs  he  heard  of  his  pro- 
motion to  the  rank  of  captain,  and  at  the  same  time  received  an 
offer  which  was  a  sore  temptation  to  the  soldier  with  no  fortune 
but  his  good  name  and  his  sword.  Struck  with  his  manly  cour- 
age and  energy,  Gen.  Ashley,  an  eminent  pioneer  citizen  of  St. 
Louis,  proposed  to  fit  out  a  trading  expedition  to  the  Yellow- 
stone, and  place  Harney  in  charge  of  it;  but  the  soldier,  born 
for  the  battle-field,  declined  the  generous  proffer. 

Arriving  at  St.  Louis  in  October,  1825,  he  was  ordered  to  re- 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  s.  HARNEY. 


407 


port  to  his  regiment  for  duty  in  the  Creek  Nation,  where  he  re- 
mained until  the  succeeding  June.  Ordered  to  New  Orleans  then, 
he  there  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar;  as 
well  as  of  an  entirely  different  person,  the  ex-pirate  L/afitte.  A 


408 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.   SARNEY. 


year  later  he  proceeded  to  the  north,  where  the  long  imprison- 
ment of  Black  Hawk  was  whetting  his  appetite  for  war  •  that  no- 
ted chief  having  been  captured  while  on  a  marauding  expedition 
with  Ecd  Bird,  and  held  for  trial. 

His  movements  for  the  next  two  years  are  of  but  little  inter- 
est. True,  it  was  at  Fort  Winnebago,  on  Green  Bay,  in  1828,  that 
he  first  met  a  certain  second-lieutenant  in  the  army,  Jefferson 
Davis,  with  whom  he  formed  a  friendship  that  lasted  for  fifty 
years,  unshaken  by  political  differences. 


ANOTHER  RACE   AND   A    COLD  BATH. 

Stationed  at  Portage-des-Sioux,  between  the  Fox  and  the  Wis- 
consin, in  the  winter  of  1829-30,  he  volunteered  to  take  his  com- 
pany to  the  pineries,  to  cut  timber  for  a  fort.  They  had  return- 
ed to  the  camp,  waiting  for  spring  to  open.  The  weather  was  bit- 
ter cold,  and  the  Fox  Eiver  frozen  over,  when  another  exciting 
foot  race  occurred.  An  Indian  had  broken  one  of  the  rules  of  the 
garrison,  and  Capt.  Harney,  always  a  strict  disciplinarian,  resol- 
ved to  administer  a  flogging.  Believing  in  a  fair  chance  for 
every  one,  he  told  the  Indian  that  if  he  reached  a  certain  point 
without  being  overtaken,  having  a  start  of  a  hundred  yards,  he 
should  escape  the  flogging.  The  race  was  on  the  ice,  and  both 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.   HARNEY.  409 

men,  moccasincd,  belted  and  stripped  for  the  run,  set  off  at  full 
speed,  the  captain  swinging  a  cow-hide.  The  red  man  ran  for 
his  skin,  the  white  man  for  his  reputation,  and  despite  his 
greater  motive,  the  Indian  knew  that  the  cow-hide  was  com- 
ing nearer  to  him.  Directing  his  course  towards  one  of  the  nu- 
merous air-holes,  he  sped  safely  over  the  thin  crust  of  ice,  through 
which  his  heavier  pursuer  sank  into  the  cold  water.  An  expert 
swimmer,  Capt.  Harney  with  a  few  strokes  reached  the  thick 
ice,  but  his  cow-hide  was  lost,  and  he  returned  to  camp.  The 
Winnebago  had  sufficient  consideration  for  himself  to  keep  away 
from  the  camp  while  Captain  Harney  remained  there. 

We  again  take  leave  of  our  hero  until  1832,  going  back  two  years 
from  that  date  to  explain  the  position  of  the  Indians  with  regard 
to.  the  Government.  In  June,  1830,  many  of  the  Indians  sold 
their  lands  to*  the  government  and  prepared  to  remove  west  of 
the  Mississippi,  but  the  Sacs  and  Poxes,  the  Sioux,  Omahas,  lowas, 
and  Ottawas,  refused  to  remove  to  the  reservations  provided  for 
them.  Keokuk  was  the  head  chief  of  the  first  mentioned  tribe, 
and  used  his  utmost  efforts  to  persuade  them  to  adopt  the  treaty, 
but  Black  Hawk's  influence  outweighed  his,  and  the  latter's  ar- 
guments were  backed  by  the  memory  of  the  unprovoked  brutal- 
ity of  the  white  settlers.  Secret  negotiations  among  the  tribes 
had  almost  consolidated  the  various  nations,  and  Keokuk,  re- 
penting of  the  sale  of  his  country,  endeavored,  without  success, 
to  secure  different  terms  from  the  government.  Thinking  them- 
selves safe,  the  warriors  of  the  tribe  set  out  on  their  fall  hunt;  re- 
turning to  find  their  women  and  children  without  a  shelter,  the 
white  people  having  taken  possession  of  their  villages.  Encamp- 
ing on  the  Mississippi,  they  at  length  resolved  upon  re-taking 
their  towns,  but  neither  party  could  overcome  the  other,  and 
they  decided  to  live  together.  This  arrangement  resulted  badly 
for  the  Indians,  as  they  were  exposed  to  every  kind  of  fraud. 
Black  Hawk  determined  that  his  people  should  not  be  the  aggres- 
sors, and  they  carefully  refrained  from  acts  of  violence  and  blood- 
shed. 

The  governor  of  Illinois,  frightened  by  the  threatened  war, 
called  out  the  militia  to  assist  Gen.  Gaines,  but  that  officer  succeed- 
ed in  effecting  his  pacific  purpose  for  a  time  without  bloodshed. 
But  this  quiet  did  not  last  long.  At  a  council  early  in  June,  1831, 
Black  Hawk  told  Gen.  Gaines  that  he  would  not  leave  his  lands, 
and  was  not  afraid  of  the  U.  S.  soldiers.  He  was  deceived  in 


410  GENERAL   WILLIAM   S.    HARNEY. 

supposing  that  his  reinforcements  from  the  other  tribes  would  be 
very  large,  whereas  Gen.  Games  was  more  accurately  informed. 
The  Illinois  volunteers,  seven  hundred  in  number,  arrived  at 
headquarters,  the  Indian  allies  of  the  chief  retreated  across  the 
river,  and  the  general  took  possession  of  their  villages.  A  treaty 
followed,  but  it  was  broken  in  less  than  a  year. 

Black  Hawk  reappeared  upon  the  Hock  River  in  the  spring 
of  1832  ;  and  Major  Stillman  was  sent  towards  Sycamore  Creek 
with  two  hundred  and  seventy  men.  Black  Hawk's  flag  of  truce 
was  disregarded,  its  three  bearers  treated  as  prisoners,  and  the 
party  sent  to  inquire  after  them  pursued,  two  being  killed. 
Major  Stillman  determined  to  lose  no  time,  and  moved  forward 
with  more  haste  than  order  upon  the  Indian,  encampment.  Here 
there  were  but  forty  warriors,  the  others  being  on  a  hunting  ex- 
pedition, but  Black  Hawk  had  already  heard  of  the  fate  of  his  five 
messengers,  and  they  were  prepared  for  an  attack.  Towards  the 
encampment  the  troops  marched,  anticipating  an  easy  victory  • 
confusion  and  precipitation  marked  their  advance ;  and  as  the 
Indians  rushed  upon  them  before  they  had  well  crossed  the  creek, 
they  retreated  as  they  had  advanced. 

Flushed  with  victory,  the  chief  sent  runners  to  the  Sacs  and 
Missouris,  who  reached  their  destination  twenty-four  hours  be- 
fore despatches  reached  the  whites ;  and  the  good  news  aroused 
the  Indians  to  new  spirit.  Their  butcheries  and  depredations 
spread  terror  and  panic  over  all  the  border.  They  cannot  be 
blamed  too  severely  for  this,  for  until  the  courtesies  of  war  were 
so  deliberately  violated  by  the  whites,  they  had  displayed  a  pa- 
tience and  forbearance  seldom  found  on  either  side  in  the  annals 
of  Indian  warfare. 

Soon  after  Capt.  Harney  reported  to  Fort  Armstrong  and  was 
ordered  to  an  outpost  near  to  the  scene  of  Stillman's  defeat. 
At  the  fort  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Col.  Zachary  Taylor, 
and  of  a  young  militia  captain,  a  country  lawyer,  who  had  en- 
listed to  gain  the  political  capital  which  military  service  could 
give  him — Abraham  Lincoln.  To  the  tall  and  awkward  joker, 
and  the  equally  tall,  but  lithe  and  graceful  listener,  who  were  so 
often  companions,  the  soldiers  in  good-natured  irony  gave  the 
nick-name  of  "  the  two  ponies."  Capt.  Harney  was  here  fre- 
quently sent  out  to  reconnoiter,  as  the  volunteers,  very  much 
afraid  of  Black  Hawk  since  Stillman's  defeat,  could  not  be  relied 
upon  for  such  duty. 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  s.  SARNEY. 


411 


This  regiment  of  militia  was  therefore  mustered  out,  and  a 
new  levy  made  ;  but  the  delay  proved  well-nigh  fatal  to  success. 
The  Indians  had  retreated,  the  trail  was  lost,  and  pursuit  seem- 


BLACK  HAWK. 

In  a  council  of  war  that  was 


held, 


ed  a  hopeless  undertaking. 
Captain  Harney  said  : 

"  The  Indians  have  but  one  hiding  place  in  the  whole  country, 
and  it  will  not  be  very  hard  to  find.  If  you  will  allow  me,  Gen- 
eral, I  will  take  fifty  men  and  make  a  reconnoissance." 


412  GENERAL  WILLIAM  s.  HARNEY. 

"  Such  a  force  would  be  too  small,"  replied  G-eneral  Atkinson, 
shaking  his  head  •  "  the  party  would  be  in  too  great  danger  of 
being  cut  off.  Take  with  you  three  hundred  Pottawattomies." 

But  the  chief  of  the  Pottawattomies  refused  to  go. 

"Black  Hawk  got  many  warriors,  he  jump  out  from  ambush 
and  kill  such  few  Indians  and  white  men.  Captain  Harney  he 
big  fool  to  go  without  big  army." 

With  only  the  fifty  men,  and  a  few  friendly  Menominies,  he 
started,  only  to  be  deserted,  early  on  his  journey,  by  all  the  In- 
dians except  one,  with  whom  he  had  once  had  a  desperate  en- 
counter, overcoming  and  disarming  him. 

"  Me  stay  with  Captain  Harney,"  said  this  whilom  antagonist, 
with  dignity ;  "  me  stay  and  die  with  him." 

But  Captain  Harney's  detachment  soon  returned  to  the  main 
body  with  the  intelligence  that  the  Indians  were  retreating  in  a 
certain  direction.  Gen.  Atkinson  at  once  ordered  a  forced  march, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  the  Indians  were  found  in  a  strong  po- 
sition near  the  Wisconsin.  Thence  they  continued  their  retreat 
towards  the  Mississippi,  where  they  were  again  overtaken,  not, 
however,  to  again  escape  without  giving  battle.  Impetuously 
the  American  troops  charged  upon  them,  as  the  lofty  courage  of 
their  leader  urged  them  to  deeds  of  desperate  valor  by  his  words 
and  example. 

"  For  how  can  man  die  better 

Than  when  facing  fearful  odds 
For  the  ashes  of  his  fathers, 
And  the  temples  of  his  gods  ?  " 

So  thought  Black  Hawk,  as  with  total  disregard  of  danger  he 
cheered  the  sinking  hearts  of  his  warriors,  driven  from  hill  to 
hill,  and  making  one  last  desperate  stand  on  the  river  bank  to 
defend  themselves  or  die.  Here  the  troops  made  a  furious  onset, 
and  drove  those  who  survived  the  attack  into  the  river.  Black 
Hawk  fled  up  the  river  and  concealed  himself  in  the  woods, 
where,  two  days  later,  he  was  captured  by  the  Sioux  and  deliv- 
ered to  the  whites. 

For  several  years  after  this  battle  of  Bad  Ax,  which  was  the 
close  of  the  Black  Hawk  war,  we  find  no  dangers  overcome  by 
our  hero.  The  succeeding  year  (1833)  is  a  memorable  one  in  his 
'  life,  marked,  as  it  is,  by  his  marriage  to  Miss  Mullanphy,  of  St. 
Louis ;  and  several  promotions  advance  him  to  the  rank  of  lieu- 
tenant-colonel of  the  Second  Dragoons,  recently  organized. 


WILLIAM  s.  &A&NEY.  413 

The  long  contest  with  the  Florida  Indians  had  begun.  Here, 
in  the  dense  forests  and  impenetrable  swamps,  lurked  the  Semi- 
noles,  the  " runaways"  from  all  tribes.  Dwelling  with  these 
were  fugitive  negro  slaves,  their  usual  good  nature  and  servility 
to  the  white  man  transformed,  by  the  oppression  of  brutal  mas- 
ters, into  the  fiercest  antipathy  to  the  whole  race.  These  were 
the  tribes  with  whom  Jackson  had  fought  in  1813 ;  these  were 
the  tribes  that  in  1835  had  fallen  upon  Major  Dade's  detachment, 
as  with  all  the  precautions  which  even  Indian  warfare  required, 
he  marched  to  punish  the  savages  who  had  committed  such  fre- 
quent outrages;  only  two  men  survived  to  tell  the  tale  of  a  dis- 
aster unparalleled  for  forty  years. 

Here,  in  February,  1837,  Col.  Harney  joined  his  regiment, 
reporting  to  Camp  Monroe,  then  under  the  command  of  Col.  Fan- 
ning. A  comparison  of  commissions  showed  that  Col.  Harney 
was  the  senior  officer,  and  therefore  entitled  to  the  honor;  but 
in  consideration  of  Col.  Fanning's  age,  he  waived  his  right. 
Having  already  seen  service  in  Indian  warfare,  Col.  Harney 
fully  understood  the  value  of  constant  vigilance.  Unwilling  to 
trust  entirely  to  his  subordinates,  he  made  a  reconnoissance  in 
person,  and  discovered  unmistakable  signs  that  Indians  were 
lurking  in  the  neighborhood.  [Returning  to  camp,  he  advised 
Fanning  that,  as  they  would  probably  be  attacked  during  the 
night,  it  would  be  well  to  throw  up  breastworks,  which  would 
give  the  raw  recruits  confidence,  and  prevent  their  becoming 
panic-stricken  at  the  first  fire.  His  suggestions  were  adopted, 
hasty  fortifications  made,  and  pickets  posted  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  Indians  would  probably  come,  with  strict  orders  to 
give  the  alarm  immediately.  The  troops  lay  ready  during  the 
whole  night,  and  early  in  the  morning  the  alarm  gun  was  heard 
and  the  pickets  ran  in.  The  men,  whom  the  Indians  had  ex- 
pected to  surprise,  were  in  readiness,  and  sprang  to  the  breast- 
works. A  sharp  contest  ensued.  At  first  the  recruits  fired 
almost  aimlessly,  but  the  boldness  and  vigor  of  Col.  Harney  soon 
inspired  his  men  with  that  confidence  necessary  to  a  steady  and 
effective  fire,  and  after  three  hours'  fighting,  the  Indians  retreat- 
ed. Here  and  there  on  the  field  about  the  camp  they  found  belts 
covered  with  blood,  shot-pouches  and  scalping  knives;  but  the 
savages  had  dragged  away  the  bodies  of  their  fallen  comrades. 

The  name  of  the  camp  was  now  changed  to  Fort  Mellon,  in 
memory  of  a  gallant  officer  who  had  fallen  in  the  fight,  and  Col. 


414 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.   HARNEY. 


Harney  was  left  in  command.  All  his  efforts  were  directed  to- 
wards the  successful  prosecution  of  the  war  with  as  little  loss  as 
possible.  To  secure  this  much-desired  result,  the  troops  were 
kept  in  such  constant  action  that  hardly  a  single  depredation  was 


allowed  to  be  committed  on  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  not  a 
stalk  of  corn  was  allowed  to  grow  anywhere  but  on  the  farms  of 
the  citizens.  Unable  to  plant  any  corn  in  the  swamps,  whence 
no  enemy  but  famine  could  drive  them,  many  of  the  chiefs  volun~ 


GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.    HARNEY.  415 

tarily  surrendered  themselves  ;  among  them  was  Osceola,  the 
moving  spirit  of  the  war. 

The  chief,  like  all  the  Indian  leaders,. had  ample  cause  for  in- 
citing his  people  to  war  against  the  whites.  The  stern  Puritans 
of  the  north  and  the  chivalry  of  the  south  united  in  a  treatment  of 
the  native  lords  of  the  soil  that  was  only  less  bad  than  the  brutal- 
ities of  the  Spaniard.  France  was  the  only  country  whose  set- 
tlements in  the  New  World  were  not  founded  on  oppression  and 
injustice,  and  the  French  colonists  were  seldom,  if  ever,  molest- 
ed by  the  Indians.  Osceola,  the  son  of  an  English  trader  and 
a  Seminole  chiefs  daughter,  had  married  the  daughter  of  another 
chief  by  an  escaped  slave-woman.  The  mother's  owner  claimed 
and  seized  the  daughter  as  his  slave,  and  the  outraged  husband 
threatened  revenge*  Imprisonment  for  his  threats  only  added 
fuel  to  the  flames,  and  on  his  release  the  war  was  opened  by  the 
murder  of  Grcn.  Thompson  and  four  others,  and  the  massacre  of 
Major  Dade  and  his  party. 

A  treaty  was  made,  and  according  to  its  terms,  the  Indians 
prepared  to  remove  to  the  reservation  assigned  to  them.  The 
frightened  citizens  returned  to  their  homes,  the  recaptured  slaves 
were  restored  to  their  owners,  and  it  seemed  that  prosperity  was 
about  to  succeed  to  the  horrors  of  war.  But  as  the  Indians  gath- 
ered at  Fort  Brooke,  ready  to  embark,  a  spirit  of  laome-sickness, 
a  wild  and  uncontrollable  longing  for  the  moss-covered  oaks  and 
evergreens  of  the  forest,  seized  upon  them,  and  they  fled  away 
from  the  fort  of  the  white  man.  Preparations  were  immediately 
made  for  recommencing  the  war;  fortunately  the  time  thus  con- 
sumed was  the  sickly  summer  season,  when  any  campaign  would 
have  resulted  in  a  great  deal  of  sickness  among  the  men. 

Osceola  had  not  only  broken  the  treaty  himself,  but  had  in- 
duced other  tribes  to  do  so.  At  a  council,  Osceola  drew  his  knife 
and  drove  it  into  the  table,  saying,  "  The  only  treaty  I  will  ex- 
ecute is  with  this."  Gen.  Jessup  considered  himself  authorized, 
therefore,  to  seize  as  prisoners  of  war  the  chiefs  who  had  met  for 
conference  with  him  under  a  flag  of  truce;  a  violation  of  all  the 
established  courtesies  of  war.  There  was  but  a  handful  of  In- 
dians remaining  in  Florida,  their  negro  allies  having  been  re- 
claimed, and  many  of  their  bravest  warriors  killed  in  the  previ- 
ous campaign ;  they  were  surrounded  by  a  complete  cordon  of 
military  posts,  and  confronted  by  an  enemy  bent  on  their  exter- 
mination. 


416 


GENERAL   WILLIAM    S.    HARNEY. 


The  aim  of  Gen.  Jessup  was  to  completely  surround  the  Indians, 
and  close  the  circle  gradually.  To  the  point  of  danger  in  this 
line,  because  the  one  where  the  Seminoles  were  most  likely  to 
attempt  to  break  through,  Col.  Harney  was  assigned;  and  it  was 
only  by  the  negligence  of  other  officers  that  a  few  escaped  at 
other  points.  Active  hostilities  began  early  in  January,  1838, 
with  a  sharp  and  active  engagement  in  which  Gen.  Nelson  com- 
manded the  whites. 
Later,  a  naval  officer 
was  so  severely  de- 
feated, that  it  was  all 
his  men  could  do  to 
regain  their  boats. 
Gen.  Jessup  with  a 
stronger  force  moved 
upon  them  at  the  same 
point,  but  Gen.  Eustis, 
who  was  in  immediate 
command,  had  so  dis- 
posed his  forces  that 
the  dragoons  under 
Col.  Harney  could  ren- 
der no  effective  service 
to  the  others,  and  at 
the  first  attack  the 
Americans  were  repul- 
sed by  a  murderous 
fire.  Col.  Harney  had 
in  the  meantime  pene- 
trated to  the  flank  and 
rear  of  the  enemy,  Gen. 
Jessup  took  command  and  rallied  his  men,  and  the  combined 
attack  proved  more  successful.  Col.  Harney's  request  that  he 
might  be  allowed  to  pursue  them,  was  granted,  but  a  severe 
rainstorm  caused  the  commander  to  withdraw  the  permission. 
Sent  the  next  day  with  two  companies  to  follow  the  Indians, 
Col.  Harney  found  their  camp  abandoned;  they  had  fled  to  the 
everglades,  inaccessible  to  the  soldiery.  [Returning  with  this  in- 
formation, he  urged  upon  the  commander  the  desirability  of  send- 
ing for  the  Indians,  as  they  would  probably  desire  to  treat  now, 
after  the  punishment  that  had  been  inflicted.  This  advice,  most 


A  TREATY   OF  WAR. 


GENERAL   WILLIAM    S.    HARNEY.  417 

worthy  of  consideration,  was  adopted  by  the  general,  who  sent 
a  messenger  to  the  Indians,  offering  terms  of  peace.  Many 
of  the  officers  urged  upon  Gen.  Jessup  the  necessity  of  termina- 
ting the  war  by  allowing  the  Seminoles  to  retain  a  part  of  the 
country ;  but  he  would  only  offer  such  terms  on  condition  of  the 
approval  of  the  government.  Many  of  the  Indian  chiefs  sur- 
rendered, with  followers  to  the  number  of  two  thousand,  and 
again  the  war  seemed  to  be  at  an  end. 

The  government  refused  to  ratify  this  arrangement,  and  the 
subsequent  action  of  Gen.  Jessup  looked  to  the  untutored  savages 
very  much  like  a  breach  of  faith.  He  had  violated  the  security 
of  a  flag  of  truce,  and  Osceola  had  died  in  prison;  he  had  de- 
coyed them  from  their  fastnesses,  only  to  hold  them  as  captives. 
Having  thus  lost  all  confidence  in  the  whites,  the  Seminoles, 
always  reckless  of  danger  for  themselves  when  it  was  possible  to 
inflict  injury  upon  their  enemies,  harried  and  burned  and  slew 
whenever  the  presence  of  soldiery  did  not  prevent. 

Colonel  Harney,  with  his  dismounted  dragoons,  was  sent  after 
Sam  Jones,  one  of  the  principal  chiefs,  and  pursued  him  into  his 
hunting  grounds  by  forced  marches  made  at  night.  He  succeed- 
ed in  surprising  the  Indians,  and  put  them  to  rout,  but  they  fled 
into  the  swamps,  whither  the  troops  could  not  follow  them.  As 
they  pursued  the  flying  savages,  one  of  the  soldiers  shot  a  squaw, 
mistaking  her,  in  the  confusion,  for  a  warrior.  Greatly  distressed 
at  this  injury  inflicted  upon  a  woman,  they  did  everything  in 
their  power  to  relieve  her.  At  a  loss  what  to  do  with  her,  Col. 
Harney  made  the  suggestion  that,  if  they  left  her,  her  friends 
would  come  after  her  in  the  night.  It  was  proposed  to  lie  in  wait 
near  by,  and  capture  those  who  should  come,  but  Col.  Harney 
declared  that  those  who  came  on  such  a  mission  of  humanity 
should  have  safe  conduct.  The  chief  and  the  woman's  husband 
came  and  visited  her  that  night,  taking  her  away  the  next,  but 
though  Sam  Jones  was  such  a  tempting  prize,  Col.  Harney  re- 
strained his  men  from  molesting  them.  The  woman  recovered, 
and  when  several  months  afterward  the  tribe  was  met  by  Col. 
Harney  and  his  command  on  terms  of  peace,  she  displayed  con- 
siderable gratitude  towards  those  who  had  acted  in  a  manner 
better  agreeing  with  their  professed  Christianity  than  the  whites 
generally  used  towards  the  savages. 

Gen.  Jessup  was  soon  after  recalled  from  Florida  and  sent  to 
the  Cherokee  country ;  Gen.  Macomb,  the  commander-in-chief, 


418  GENERAL   WILLIAM    S.    HARNEY. 

repairing  in  person  to  the  seat  of  war.  Arriving  in  Florida,  and 
establishing  his  headquarters  on  Black  Creek,  he  immediately 
sent  for  Col.  Harney.  The  plans  which  that  officer  had  suggested, 
and  upon  which  Gen.  Jessup  had  acted,  were  laid  before  him, 
and  Col.  Harney  marked  out  the  reservation  which  would  con- 
tent the  Indians,  who  were  committing  all  sorts  of  depredations 
and  murders. 

"  A  settlement  can  be  made  with  them,  if  I  can  only  be  assured 
that  the  government  will  keep  faith ;  but  they  have  been  de- 
ceived, and  are  suspicious  of  the  promises  of  the  War  Depart- 
ment. I  cannot  undertake  to  deceive  them  myself,  and  unless  1 
can  be  assured  that  the  treaty,  when  made,  will  be  observed  by 
our  own  people,  I  can  do  nothing." 

Gen.  Macomb  had  instructions  to  pacify  the  Indians,  and  to 
make  arrangements  for  them  to  remain  in  the  country.-  Satisfied 
at  this,  Col.  Harney' s  influence  got  a  number  of  chiefs  together, 
who  were  induced  by  the  respect  in  which  they  held  him,  to 
make  an  amicable  arrangement.  But  the  depredations  continued. 
Some  of  the  chiefs  repudiated  this  treaty,  some  never  assented 
to  it.  The  people  of  Florida  were  not  satisfied  with  it,  and  while 
the  assurance  of  the  Secretary  of  War  was  that  it  was  only  a  tem- 
porary measure,  calculated  to  quiet  their  remonstrances,  it  only 
inflamed  the  passions  of  the  Seminoles.  Col.  Harney  was  thus 
shown  to  be  as  unreliable  as  any  of  the  others,  and  his  reputa- 
tion for  truth  and  honor  existed  no  more  among  the  deceived 
and  betrayed  Indians  of  Florida. 

As  soon  as  the  treaty  had  been  made,  Gen.  Macomb  directed 
Col.  Harney  to  select  a  suitable  site  for  a  trading-house,  to  be 
built  in  the  reservation.  Selecting  a  point  on  the  Coloosahatchie 
Eiver,  fifteen  miles  above  the  mouth,  he  left  there  thirty  dis- 
mounted dragoons,  while  he  went  on  to  Gen.  Taylor's  headquar- 
ters on  Tampa  Bay.  Gen.  Macomb  had  verbally  authorized  him 
to  call  upon  this  officer  for  two  companies  to  protect  the  house, 
but  Gen.  Taylor  refused  to  let  him  have  any  troops.  Calling  at 
the  site  on  the  Coloosahatchie  as  he  returned,  he  found  every- 
thing progressing  admirably,  the  Indians  appearing  perfectly 
contented.  But  while  he  was  on  the  way  from  Tampa,  the  Sec- 
retary's letter  had  arrived,  saying  that  the  treaty  was  only  tem- 
porary. In  some  mysterious  way,  the  Indians  had  heard  of  it, 
and  swift  runners  spread  the  news  among  all  the  tribes  before  it 
had  been  sent  to  the  whites. 


GENERAL   WILLIAM   S.    HARNEY.  419 

It  was  then,  without  arousing  any  suspicion  in  the  mind  of  the 
officer,  that  the  afterwards  famous  chief  Billy  Bowlegs  came 
aboard  the  boat,  and  told  him  that  the  chiefs  wished  to  see  him 
before  he  left.  Never  guessing  what  news  had  come  from  Wash- 
ington, he  concluded  to  land,  and  spend  the  night  on  shore  in 
his  tent.  The  next  day  he  went  hunting,  returning  about  nine 
o'clock,  tired  out.  Taking  off  his  coat  and  boots,  he  lay  down, 
intending  to  rest  a  little  and  then  get  up  to  see  how  the  sergeant 
in  command  had  posted  his  sentinels.  But  he  fell  asleep,  to  be 
awakened  at  daylight  by  the  firing  of  guns,  the  yelling  of  In- 
dians, and  shouts  of,  "  Eun  to  the  water !"  in  the  familiar  voices 
of  his  own  men. 

Seeing  that  his  men,  standing  up  to  their  necks  in  the  water, 
were  wholly  unarmed,  he  knew  that  he  could  not  help  them,  and 
determined  to  save  himself.  Running  down  the  river  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  every  thought  bent  to  the  planning  of  an  escape, 
he  walked  into  the  river  a  few  paces,  then  backward  up  the 
bank,  so  as  to  make  the'  Indians  think  that  two  men  had  been 
drowned  at  that  point. 

In  the  mean  time  the  men  in  the  river  had  been  induced  to  sur- 
render, and  were  massacred  as  soon  as  they  left  the  water,  only 
a  small  party  escaping  in  a  trading  boat.  They  then  proceeded 
to  the  colonel's  tent,  and  their  yell  of  disappointment  rang  in  his 
ears  as  he  plunged  into  the  brush.  Following  his  trail,  they 
found  the  point  where  he  had  walked  into  the  water,  and  con- 
cluding that  he  and  some  companion  had  preferred  drowning  to 
falling  into  their  hands,  gave  up  the  search.  He  had  not  proceed- 
ed far  when  a  man  was  seen  coming  towards  him,  and,  thinking 
it  wTas  an  Indian,  he  drew  his  pocket-knife,  the  only  weapon  he 
had,  and  prepared  for  defense  ;  but  the  supposed  Indian  was  one 
of  his  own  dragoons  who  had  watched  him  from  the  river,  and 
had  not  surrendered  with  his  comrades. 

Over  the  mangrove  roots  and  sour-grass  that  lacerated  his  un- 
protected feet,  until  the  dragoon,  Britton,  gave  him  his  shoes,  un- 
der the  burning,  vertical  rays  of  a  July  sun  in  Florida,  blacking 
their  faces  with  the  charred  wood  left  by  camp-fires  which  they 
passed,  so  that  they  might  be  better  disguised,  they  strained 
every  nerve  to  get  to  a  certain  point  fifteen  miles  away.  Now  and 
then  their  route  led  them  to  the  river  bank.  The  third  time  that 
they  approached  it,  Britton  heard  a  voice  on  the  river.  Sending 
the  dragoon  down  the  stream,  Col.  Harney  ascended  it,  to  look 
27 


420 


GENERAL  WILLIAM    S.    HARNEY. 


for  the  Indians.     Britton  soon  reported  that  they  were  coming; 
he  had  seen  a  canoe  with  some  one  in  it — of  course,  Seminoles. 
"Britton,  can  you  fight?" 


BILLY  BOWLEGS. 


"I  will  die  with  you,  Colonel." 

"  There  seem  to  be  two  Indians.     Do  not  let  one  get  behind 
me  while  I  am  fighting  with  the  other.     I  can  soon  overcome 


GENERAL   WILLIAM    S.    HARNEY.  421 

and  kill  one,  and  then  will  be  ready  for  the  second.  "Where  are 
they?" 

"  Under  that  wild  fig-tree." 

"I  will  go  now.     Be  sure  and  keep  a  sharp  look-out." 

Arriving  at  the  point  indicated,  with  so  stealthy  a  step  as  not 
to  alarm  the  children  of  the  forest,  he  planted  one  foot  firmly 
upon  the  ground,  the  other  upon  the  shell  bank,  ready  to  leap 
upon  them.  Kaising  himself,  he  saw  the  canoe — his  own,  con- 
taining only  a  harpoon  and  the  paddles.  Calling  Britton  to  him 
by  a  yell  of  triumph,  and  instructing  him  in  paddling  the  canoe, 
they  soon  overtook  those  of  his  men  who  had  escaped  in  the  boat!, 
To  them  he  announced  his  intention  of  going  back  to  the  camp, 
to  see  what  had  become  of  his  force,  and  they  volunteered  to  ac- 
company him.  "With  seven  men,  he  returned  that  night  to  as- 
certain who  had  been  the  killed.  Leaving  two  men  in  the 
boat,  with  five  men  and  two  #uns  he  proceeded  to  the  camp,  where 
they  looked  into  the  faces  of  their  comrades,  ghastly  with  death 
in  the  light  of  the  moon.  Counting  the  dead,  they  found  all  there 
but  five,  and  shouted  to  call  these  to  them.  They  afterwards  learn- 
ed that  two  heard  the  shouts,  but  thought  it  merely  an  Indian  ruse 
to  draw  them  from  their  hiding  places.  Col.  Harney,  knowing 
that  the  Indians  had  taken  two  barrels  of  whiskey  in  the  stores, 
wished  to  avenge  his  murdered  men,  sure  that  a  surprise  would 
result  in  victory ;  but  his  men  were  unwilling  to  take  a  new  risk, 
and  the  little  party  returned  to  headquarters. 

Colonel  Harney  was  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  reason  for  this  at- 
tack, only  learning  of  the  Secretary's  letter  when  he  arrived  at 
Florida  Bay.  The  news  of  the  attack  and  massacre  spread  rap- 
idly over  Florida,  and  produced  the  most  profound  sensation, 
leading  to  hostilities  of  the  bloodiest  kind.  Yet  the  Secretary, 
whose  faithlessness  was  the  cause  of  this,  was  retained  in  the 
cabinet,  his  conduct  unquestioned.  By  his  orders,  blood-hounds 
were  imported  to  hunt  down  the  Indians.  Less  cruel  than  the 
men  who  set  them  on,  "they  were  found  to  be  perfectly  useless." 

With  the  campaign  between  November,  1839,  and  May,  1840, 
we  have  nothing  to  do,  as  Col.  Harney  was  on  sick  leave  in  Cuba, 
being  threatened  with  consumption.  Little  of  importance  oc- 
curred between  the  time  of  the  massacre  of  the  Coloosahatchie 
(July,  1839)  and  the  last  month  of  the  succeeding  year;  a  series 
of  scenes  of  petty  bloodshed  on  both  sides  filled  up  the  measure 
pf  the  days, 


422  GENERAL  WILLIAM    S.    HARNET. 

In  December,  1840,  Col.  Harney  was  ordered  to  proceed  to  the 
everglades  and  attack  the  Spanish  Indians,  of  whom  Chaikika 
was  the  chief.  Here,  in  a  vast  expanse  of  water  varying  in  depth 
from  one  to  five  feet,  and  covered  with  an  almost  impenetrable 
saw-grass,  except  for-  the  channels  which  extended  in  every  direc- 
tion, dotted  with  innumerable  islands,  it  was  supposed  that  many 
of  the  Indians  had  their  headquarters.  This  suspicion  had  been 
confirmed  by  the  account  of  a  negro  man  named  John,  who  had 
been  captured  by  them  in  1835,  and  had  but  recently  escaped. 
Col.  Harney,  with  a  force  of  ninety  men  in  boats,  and  John  as  a 


IN   THE   EVERGLADES. 

guide,  penetrated  into  the  heart  of  this  wilderness.  John  led 
them  directly  to  the  island  where  the  Indians  were  encamped  — 
the  band  of  Chaikika,  who  had  been  the  chief  commanding  the 
party  that  massacred  the  dragoons  at  Coloosahatchie. 

The  chief  was  chopping  wood  at  a  short  distance  from  his  people 
when  the  soldiers  approached.  Discovering  the  presence  of  the 
enemy  he  dropped  his  -axe  and  ran  for  the  high  grass.  Two  or 
three  soldiers  started  in  pursuit,  but  only  one  proved  able  to  keep 
up  with  him.  This  was  Hall,  the  same  man  who  had  shot  the 
squaw  by  mistake.  Finding  that  escape  was  hopeless,  and  being 


WILLIAM  S.   ftARtfEY.  423 

unarmed,  he  turned,  and  threw  up  his  arms  in  token  of  surren- 
der. The  mercy  he  had  dealt  to  those  who  surrendered  at  Co- 
loosahatchie  was  shown  to  him.  Hall  sent  a  bullet  into  his  hrain, 
and  he  fell  lifeless  into  the  water.  Two  thousand  dollars'  worth 
of  stolen  goods  were  identified,  and  thirteen  revolvers  belonging 
to  Harney's  massacred  dragoons.  Nine  of  the  warriors  were 
hanged,  the  tenth  reserved  for  use  in  the  future  as  a  guide. 

This  was  virtually  the  end  of  the  Seminole  war,  protracted 
through  eight  years,  at  the  cost  of  millions  of  dollars  and  many 
lives.  This  contest  baffled  the  military  skill  of  the  ablest  gener- 
als. Col.  Harney's  services  were,  beyond  question,  more  efficient 
than  those  of  any  other  officer  in  the  field.  The  Indians  always 
had  most  respect  and  esteem  for  the  man  who  was  most  successful 
in  contending  with  them,  and  Col.  Harney  was  the  only  man 
upon  whose  word  they  would  rely. 

For  a  period  of  several  years  we  take  leave  of  him.  During 
this  time  Texas,  an  independent  republic,  had  laid  aside  her  sov- 
ereign loneliness  at  the  invitation  of  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  and  become  one  of  the  many.  Mexico  had  never  admit- 
ted the  independence  of  Texas  ;  the  action  of  the  United  States 
was,  therefore,  regarded  as  a  breach  of  the  treaty  between  the 
two  nations,  and  the  Mexican  war  ensued. 

Col.  Harney  was  stationed  at  San  Antonio  with  six  regiments 
of  dragoons,  when,  in  the  winter  of  1845-6,  he  learned  that  the 
Mexicans  were  assembling  on  the  Bio  G-rande,  west  of  San  An- 
tonio. He  determined  to  push  forward,  to  reconnoiter  and  to 
protect  the  frontier,  and  collected  a  force  of  seven  hundred  men. 
His  officers  suggested  that  they  had  no  cannon,  and  proposedv 
sending  to  Victoria  for  two  pieces ;  but  this  would  cause  too 
much  loss  of  time. 

"Have  the  Mexicans  any  artillery?"  inquired  Col.  Harney. 

"  They  have  field-pieces  and  ordnance  of  excellent  character, 
sir/'  replied  an  officer  readily,  glad  to  break  the  argument  by 
such  facts. 

"  Well,  then,  we  will  go  and  take  them ;  they  will  suit  me  ex- 
actly." 

Advancing  to  within  fifteen  miles  of  the  Bio  Grande,  a  recon- 
noissance  in  person  revealed  that  the  Mexican  troops  had  gone; 
crossing  the  river,  he  occupied  Presidio,  and  wished  to  move 
upon  Monterey,  but  the  unanimous  opposition  of  his  officers 
forced  him  to  abandon  this  plan.  On  his  way  back  to  San  An- 


424  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.   HARNEY. 

tonio,  he  was  met  by  two  orders  from  G-en.  Wool,  then  in  com- 
mand ;  the  first,  desiring  him  to  return  to  San  Antonio  immedi- 
ately; the  second,  placing  him  under  arrest,  and  giving  his  com- 
mand to  another  officer.  Gen.  Wool  explained  that  the  latter 
order  had  been  issued  because  the  people  of  San  Antonio  had 
assured  him  that  Colonel  Harney  would  not  obey  the  first. 

Promoted  to  the  full  rank  of  colonel  the  last  of  June,  1846,  he 
and  Brig.-Gen.  Shields,  with  a  guard  of  only  fifteen  men,  set  out 
to  report  to  Gen.  Taylor  at  Matamoras,  where  the  Mexicans  had 
met  with  a  signal  defeat  in  May  at  the  hands  of  that  officer.  The 
perils  and  difficulties  of  the  journey  cannot  be  exaggerated: 
through  a  country  full  of  enemies,  marching  all  one  day  without 
water,  the  escort  was  so  scanty  that  it  was  a  most  hazardous  un- 
dertaking. They  reached  Monterey  only  to  find  Col.  Harney 
placed  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Wool,  who  had  exposed  him 
to  the  indignity  of  an  arrest  in  San  Antonio. 

Sent  with  his  dragoons  to  the  front,  Col.  Harney  made  a  re- 
connoissance,  and  failing  to  find  the  enemy,  returned  to  the  post 
assigned.  Here,  as  he  and  his  officers  were  indulging  in  festiv- 
ities after  their  tiresome  day,  a  courier  arrived  with  a  despatch 
from  Gen.  Wool,  ordering  his  immediate  return,  as  the  enemy 
was  advancing.  Beading  the  despatch  to  his  officers,  and  know- 
ing the  general  had  received  false  information,  he  bivouacked  for 
the  night,  and  on  the  following  day,  falling  back  upon  the  main 
body,  reported  to  Gen.  Wool.  In  reply  to  that  officer's  reproach- 
es for  his  tardiness  in  obeying  orders,  he  said  : 

"  I  knew  that  you  had  received  false  information,  sir.  If  you 
had  inquired  of  me,  I  could  have  told  you,  from  my  own  know- 
ledge, that  there  was  no  enemy." 

He  was  soon  afterward  transferred  to  Gen.  Taylor's  command. 
Gen.  Scott's  old  jealousy  of  Gen.  Jackson  showed  itself  in  an  at- 
tempt to  deprive  Col.  Harney  of  his  command,  he  having  been 
an  especial  protege  of  "  Old  Hickory/'  but  foiled  in  this,  he 
could  not  but  admit  that  it  was  a  gallant  soldier  and  a  good  offi- 
cer that  he  would  have  injured.  His  conduct  at  Madellin  and  the 
more  important  Cerro  Gordo  won  for  him  the  commendation  of 
Scott,  and  the  rank  of  Brevet  Brigadier-General.  Present  at  the 
taking  of  Mexico,  and  performing  valuable  services  during  the 
entire  war,  when  peace  was  at  last  declared  he  was  stationed  with 
his  regiment  at  San  Antonio.  He  remained  in  Texas,  with  occa- 
sional short  leaves  of  absence,  until  July,  1854,  when  a  leave  grant- 


GENERAL  wimAta  s.  HARNEY.  425 

ed  for  two  years  permitted  him  to  visit  his  family,  who  had  lived 
for  some  years  in  Europe,  while  the  husband  and  father  had  been 
serving  his  country  in  its  wars. 

Although  our  right  to  annex  Texas  had  been  vindicated,  the 
country  was  not  to  be  left  in  peace.  The  disturbing  element  was 
the  same  that  kept  the  earliest  settlers  on  the  Atlantic  coast  al- 
ways prepared  for  a  combat,  that  has  made  itself  a  name  of  ter- 
ror to  the  far  western  prairies— the  Indians.  As  usual,  the  cause 
of  this  war  was  the  injustice  and  oppression  of  the  white  man, 
revenged  by  the  cruelty  of  the  red  man. 

A  party  of  emigrants  to  California,  passing  the  Big  Platte, 
about  thirty  miles  below  Fort  Laramie,  left  a  cow,  that  had  giv- 
en out,  in  charge  of  the  Bois  Brules.  Buffaloes  were  not  to  be 
found  by  the  hunters,  and  the  agents  of  the  II.  S.  Government 
had  failed  to  furnish  them  with  the  usual  supplies ;  but  they  had 
no  thought  of  violating  that  trust,  even  to  prevent  the  starvation 
of  the  tribe.  Even  when  a  visit 
from  a  neighboring  chief  awak- 
ened all  their  sense  of  hospital- 
ity, they  explained  to  him  that 
their  own  meager  rations  would 
not  permit  a  great  feast  of  wel- 
come. The  Ogallala  chief  said 
that  he  had  seen  a  white  buffalo 
(a  cow)  on  the  prairies,  but  ap- 
peared satisfied  on  learning  the 
facts  of  the  case.  He  and  his  war- 
riors would  go  out  on  a  hunt, 
said  the  visitor ;  and  strangely  GEN.  WINFIELD  s.  SCOTT. 

enough,  the  game  that  they  brought  in  was  the  carcass  of  the 
white  buffalo. 

The  owner  of  the  cow  sent  in  a  bill  for  it  to  Fort  Laramie,  and 
received  payment  from  the  officer  in  command  •  who  immediate- 
ly despatched  a  force  of  thirty  men,  under  the  command  of  a 
lieutenant,  to  demand  the  warrior  who  had  killed  the  cow. 
Drunk  when  they  arrived  at  the  village,  it  is  hardly  probable 
that  this  demand  was  made  in  a  manner  calculated  to  ensure  its 
admission  by  the  Indians. 

"  The  Ogallala  chief  is  in  the  village  of  the  Bois  Brules,  and 
they  cannot  give  him  up  to  his  enemies.  But  he  has  behaved 
badly?  and  you  can  take  him ;  that  is  his  lodge." 


426  GENERAL  WILLIAM   S.   HARNEY. 

"No,  you  must  bring  him  here/'  insisted  the  officer,  with 
drunken  dignity. 

"  The  Indian  does  not  give  up  the  friend  who  is  in  his  lodge, 
and  Black  Beaver's  people  would  kill  him  if  he  did  so." 

But  the  hospitality  of  the  desert  met  with  no  recognition  here, 
and  the  order  was  given  to  fire.  Black  Beaver  was  killed,  but 
his  death  was  speedily  avenged  by  that  of  the  lieutenant,  his 
interpreter,  and  all  the  detachment  but  one  man  •  who,  found 
wounded,  was  taken  into  the  lodge  of  a  warrior  and  nursed  back 
to  health*  Such  was  the  beginning  of  the  war  in  which  the  whole 
Sioux  tribe  took  up  the  quarrel  of  their  kinsmen,  the  Bois  Brules. 

In  such  a  state  of  affairs,  the  most  distinguished  Indian  fighter 
in  the  army  could  not  well  be  spared,  and  Gen.  Harney  was  re- 
called before  one  quarter  of  the  two  years  had  passed.  Leaving 
Paris  on  Christmas  Eve,  1854,  he  reported  in  Washington. 

"  Gen.  Harney,"  xsaid  President  Pierce,  "  you  have  done  so 
much  that  I  will  not  order  you,  but  I  do  wish  you  would  con- 
sent to  assume  the  command  and  whip  the  Indians  for  us." 

Proceeding  to  the  west,  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  Indian  coun- 
try he  received  a  message  from  the  Sioux  chief,  Little  Thunder, 
saying  that  he  would  either  shake  hands  with  him  or  fight.  But 
Gen.  Harney  had  already  reached  a  position  commanding  the 
Indian  village,  and  even  the  personal  pleading  of  the  chief  did 
not  secure  peace  without  punishment  for  robbing  the  mails  and 
killing  emigrants. 

Seventy-two  savages  fell  in  the  attack  which  followed,  in 
which  only  four  white  men  were  killed.  Soon  forced  to  retreat, 
the  Indians  were  allowed  to  make  their  escape,  since  they  were 
encumbered  with  their  women  and  children. 

One  most  important  assistant  in  guarding  the  camp  from  attack 
was  Gen.  Harney's  veteran  charger,  Buncombe,  who  had  seen 
severe  service  in  the  Mexican  war,  and  who  now  learned  to  detect 
the  presence  of  a  wolf,  a  buffalo  or  an  Indian  near  the  camp ;  giv- 
ing an  invariably  correct  alarm,  and  in  many  cases  saving  the 
lives  of  the  men.  He  could  distinguish  between  the  intruders, 
and  would  stamp  harder  and  oftener,  and  snort  more  loudly,  if 
it  were  an  Indian,  than  if  it  were  a  buffalo  or  a  wolf. 

The  decisive  victory  gained  over  Little  Thunder  awed  the 
Sioux  into  submission,  and  a  five  days'  conference  with  the  chiefs 
of  all  but  two  bands  resulted  in  a  treaty.  Chiefs  and  sub-chiefs 
were  recognized,  and  arrangements  made  for  the  government  of 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  s.  EARNEY.  427 

the  tribe,  so  as  to  secure  the  blessings  of  peace  to  both  the  Indians 
and  the  whites.  The  Sioux  stood  to  their  promises,  and  held  to 
the  obligations  that  the  treaty  imposed  upon  them,  even  after 
the  government  showed  that  it  had  no  intention  of  keeping 
faith  with  them. 

His  instructions  forbade  him  to  do  more,  although  the  bands 
not  represented  were  somewhat  turbulent,  and  challenged  him  to 
meet  them  on  the  war-path  ;  and  he  returned  to  St.  Louis.  The 
removal  of  the  remnant  of  the  Seminoles  still  lingering  in  the 
swamps  and  everglades  of  Florida  next  occupied  his  time,  and 
in  May,  1857,  he  was  ordered  to  Kansas,  where  a  delicate  and  im- 
portant duty  required  all  his  firmness  and  sagacity.  This  was  to 
keep  the  peace  which  the  politicians  seemed  determined  to  break 
—  a  strange  duty,  it  seems,  for  a  soldier,  occurring  under  a  com- 
bination of  circumstances  equally  strange.  But  his  services  in 
Kansas,  and  those  immediately  afterwards  in  Utah,  do  not  pre- 
sent points  of  special  interest  to  any  but  the  historians  of  those 
states. 

Ordered  to  Oregon  early  in  the  fall  of  1858,  he  procured  the 
appointment  of  Father  de  Smet  as  chaplain  to  his  force.  This 
eminent  Jesuit  had  been  a  missionary  among  the  Fiat  Heads  and 
kindred  tribes  around  the  Columbia  and  its  branches,  and  not  only 
possessed  considerable  influence  over  them,  but  perhaps  knew 
the  country  and  disposition  of  the  tribes  better  than  any  one 
else  ;  so  that  he  was  invaluable  to  this  expedition. 

The  California  Indians  had  been  hostile  for  some  time,  and 
there  had  been  several  skirmishes,  when  G-en.  Clarke,  then  in 
command,  invited  them  to  a  council.  Eefusing  to  surrender  their 
privileges,  they  were  thus  addressed  by  Major  Key: 

"  The  great  war-chief,  General  Harney,  who  is  known  among 
all  the  tribes  for  his  success  among  them,  is  on  his  way  here ; 
and  if  you  do  not  accede  to  the  terms  which  we  propose,  he 
will  make  war  upon  you,  so  that  you  will  be  glad  to  accept  even 
harder  conditions." 

When  G-en.  Harney  arrived  at  Fort  Yancouver,  he  found  that 
many  of  the  tribes  had  sued  for  peace,  and  treaties  had  been  made 
with  them.  The  turbulent  Indians  had  fled  to  the  Flat  Heads, 
and  G-en.  Harney  concluded  to  demand  their  surrender.  In  many 
instances  they  were  promptly  given  up,  but  in  other  cases  there 
was  more  delay.  So  completely  had  the  Indians  been  pacified, 
through  the  good  offices  of  Father  de  Smet,  and  the  active  and 


428  GENERAL  WILLIAM  s. 

efficient  measures  of  Gen.  Harney,  that  no  disturbances  followed. 
His  perfect  knowledge  of  Indian  character,  and  his  wisdom  in 
adapting  his  plan  of  action  to  the  enemy  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal,  secured  him  a  greater  degree  of  success  than  any  officer  as- 
signed to  duty  on  the  frontier.  His  one  rule  in  intercourse  with 
them,  never  broken,  was  to  keep  faith;  and  the  wisdom  of  this 
was  endorsed  by  the  experience  of  Father  de  Smet. 

He  was  recalled  from  Oregon  in  July,  1860,  and  ordered  to  St. 
Louis,  whence,  in  April,  1861,  he  proceeded  to  Washington.  Made 
the  first  prisoner  of  war,  and  strongly  urged  to  join  the  Confed- 
erate Army  by  many  old  acquaintances,  his  journey  to  Washing- 
ton was  a  series  of  ovations  to  the  great  war-chief  of  the  West. 

On  his  return  to  St.  Louis,  again  invested  with  the  command 
here,  he  bent  every  energy  to  the  task  of  pacification;  believing 
that  there  was  no  necessity  for  a  single  gun  to  be  fired  in  the 
state,  and  resolved  that  none  should  be  while  he  could  prevent 
it.  But  he  had  hardly  arrived  in  the  city  before  the  order  came 
depriving  him  of  his  command,  and  giving  him  leave  of  absence 
until  further  orders.  The  further  orders  never  came,  and  his 
name  is  still  upon  the  retired  list.  The  pretext  for  this  action  was 
his  connection  with  those  who  leaned  towards  the  Confederate 
States,  but  no  evidence  exists  to  show  that,  while  he  remained 
in  command,  he  was  anything  but  a  faithful  servant  of  the  coun- 
try for  which  he  had  done  so  much.  Forty-two  years  he  had 
spent  in  active  service,  the  greater  part  of  the  time  being  on  the 
frontier,  among  the  Indians. 

Appointed  a  member  of  the  Indian  Peace  Commission  in  1865, 
he  visited  the  savages,  for  the  last  time,  on  the  waters  of  the  Platte 
and  the  Black  Hills  country.  It  is  a  touching  tribute  to  his  rep- 
utation among  the  Indians,  that  while  engaged  in  this  work,  an 
elderly  Indian  woman  came  up  to  him,  and  shaking  his  hand  earn- 
estly, said : 

"  You  were  a  friend  of  my  father." 

Who  her  father  was,  or  where  G-en.  Harney  had  known  him, 
could  not  be  ascertained;  but  that  is  unnecessary  to  the  beauty 
of  the  incident;  it  might  have  been  a  typical  Indian,  for  to  the 
fathers  of  many  of  the  present  generation  he  had  indeed  been  a 
friend. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


GEKEEAL  GEOEGE  A.  CUSTEE. 

~Y"T~^HE]N"  a  man  has  achieved  success  in  any  direction,  we  are 
VV  always  desirous  of  knowing  how  far  his  boyhood  and 
youth  gave  promise  of  the  future.  It  is  with  a  feeling  of  gratifica- 
tion that  we  learn  that  such  a  novelist  delighted  his  schoolmates 
by  the  stories  he  related  to  them ;  that  such  a  historian  almost  de- 
stroyed his  sight  by  his  close  application ;  that  such  a  ruler  of  men 
so  governed  circumstances,  that  from  a  canal-boy  he  became  pres- 
ident; that  such  a  general  gave  promise  of  his  future  excellence 
as  a  soldier  by  his  rank  at  West  Point.  After  a  while,  however, 
the  story  becomes  monotonous,  and  it  is  with  equal  gratification 
that  we  turn  to  the  eminent  scholar  who,  in  boyhood,  was  es- 
teemed a  dunce,  to  the  successful  general  who  was  not  in  the  first 
rank  at  the  Military  Academy. 

Born  in  Ohio,  in  the  latter  part  of  1839,  George  Armstrong 
Ouster's  early  life  was  like  that  of  many  an  American  boy,  born 
and  raised  in  the  country.  At  school  in  the  winter,  rarely  fail- 
ing to  have  his  lessons  creditably  prepared  in  spite  of  the  mili- 
tary novel  often  opened  under  his  geography;  at  work  on  his 
father's  farm  in  the  summer ;  accompanying  an  elder  sister,  re- 
cently married,  to  Michigan,  then  but  sparsely  settled;  full  of 
life  and  fun,  yet  never  quarrelsome ;  of  the  gentlest  and  most 
lovable  disposition :  such  is  the  record  of  his  boyhood.  Early 
imbued  with  a  passion  for  a  soldier's  life,  he  was  not  yet  seven- 
teen when  he  determined  to  go  to  West  Point.  No  influence 
aided  him  in  his  endeavors,  and  nothing  came  of  them  the  first 
time ;  but  a  personal  interview  with  the  congressman,  to  whom 
he  had  written,  resulted  in  his  appointment  the  following  year. 

The  discipline  at  the  Military  Academy  seems  to  outsiders  un- 
necessarily strict.  A  trifling  dereliction  from  duty  is  an  unpar- 
donable offense ;  a  failure  to  black  one's  boots  at  the  proper 
moment  necessitates  an  afternoon's  guard  duty;  while  a  neglect 


GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    CtJSTER. 

of  lessons  for  a  visit  to  Benny  Havens'  cabin  is  no  worse — it  can 
not  be.  Saturday  afternoon  is  time  for  recreation,  but  the  poor 
delinquents  must  spend  it  "  walking  their  extras."  For  offenses 
not  great,  but  making  up  in  number  what  they  lacked  in  enorm- 
ity, sixty-six  Saturdays  were  thus  spent  by  Cadet  Ouster  during 
his  four  years'  course  ;  and  when  every  examination  was  passed 
and  only  the  order  from  Washington  was  needed  to  transform 
the  cadets  into  officers,  the  ranking  of  the  class  of  thirty-four 
showed  thirty-three  above  him.  "  My  career  as  a  cadet,"  said 
he,  as  a  soldier,  "  had  but  little  to  commend  it  to  the  study  of 
those  who  came  after  me,  unless  as  an  example  to  be  carefully 
avoided." 

A  single  instance  will  be  enough  to  show  the  character  of  his 
offenses  against  military  law.  It  was  in  1861,  after  the  examin- 
ations were  passed,  when  they  were  only  waiting  to  be  assigned 
each  to  the  particular  branch  of  the  service  for  which  he  was  best 
fitted,  that  Cadet  Ouster  was  performing  the  duties  of  officer  of  the 
the  guard ;  an  honor  bestowed  only  once  on  each  one  during  his 
fo.ur  years'  course.  At  dark  he  heard  a  commotion  near  the 
guard  tents,  at  some  distance  from  the  main  camp,  and  hastened 
towards  the  place  indicated  by  the  uproar.  In  th  e  midst  of  a  con- 
siderable  group  were  two  cadets  noisily  disputing  with  each 
other;  hardly  had  he  arrived  when  they  began  a  pitched  battle 
with  their  fists.  Prudent  bystanders  attempted  to  separate  them, 
and  the  officer  of  the  guard  ought  to  have  assisted  them,  and  sent 
the  two  combatants  to  the  guard  tents  for  breaking  the  peace  and 
the  rules  at  the  same  time.  He  did  nothing  of  the  kind  :  push- 
ing his  way  into  the  centre  of  the  group,  he  dashed  back  the 
would-be  peacemakers  with  the  words  : 

"  Stand  back,  boys  ;  let's  have  a  fair  fight." 

Unfortunately,  his  enthusiasm  for  a  "  fair  fight"  was  witness- 
ed by  two  officers  of  the  army,  one  of  whom  was  the  officer  of 
the  day  ;  they  did  not  seem  to  appreciate  his  soldierly  instinct  as 
the  proper  thing,  and  he  was  placed  under  arrest. 

Only  a  few  hours  after  this  arrived  the  order  from  "Washington, 
directing  the  members  of  his  class  to  report  to  the  adjutant-general 
for  further  o'rders;  but  he  was  detained.  Arraigned  before  a 
court-martial  "  with  all  the  solemnity  and  gravity  which  might 
be  looked  for  in  a  trial  for  high  treason,"  his  comrades  who  had 
preceded  him  to  Washington  set  influential  friends  to  work,  and 
secured  an  order  for  his  release. 


GEOEGE   A.    CUSTER. 


431 


GEORGE  A,  CUSTER, 


432  GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    OUSTER. 

Active  service  awaited  the  recent  graduates  from  the  Acad- 
emy; for  not  only  had  the  army  been  enormously  increased,  but 
many  of  the  officers  had  resigned  and  joined  the  enemy.  Rapid 
promotion  awaited  merit,  and  Ouster  confided  to  some  of  his 
comrades  that  he  was  determined  to  be  a  general  before  the  war 
was  over.  It  was  an  incautious  admission,  received  by  many 
with  ill-natured  sneers,  and  frequently  made  the  occasion  of  se- 
vere sarcasm ;  but  his  desire  was  based  on  what  he  knew  of  his 
own  abilities. 

Towards  the  latter  part  of  June,  1862,  not  many  days  after 
the  battle  of  Aldie,  Captain  Ouster  returned  to  camp  after  a  long 
day's  ride.  Entering  the  large  tent  where  his  brother  staff- 
officers  were  chatting  and  smoking,  a  repetition  of  the  frequent 
chaff  on  the  subject  of  his  ambition  greeted  him. 

" Hallo,  general!" 

"  Pretty  tired,  general  ?" 

"  G-entlemen,  General  Ouster!" 

" How  are  you,  general?" 

"  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you,  general,"  with  a  low  bow. 

"  You're  looking  well,  general." 

With  his  blue  eyes  flashing  with  anger,  which  he  could  hardly 
control,  he  replied  with  some  bitterness: 

"Laugh  as  long  as  you  please,  but  I  will  be  a  general  yet, 
for  all  your  chaff.  See  if  I'm  not — that's  all."  Irritated  by  the 
unusual  malignancy  of  his  persecutors,  he  looked  about  him  as 
if  for  some  one  on  whom  he  could  fix  a  quarrel,  when  Yates  said 
to  him:  "Look  on  the  table,  old  fellow;  they  are  not  chaffing 
this  time. 

In  the  midst  of  the  papers  on  the  table,  lay  a  large  official 
envelope  directed  to  "Brigadier  G-eneral  G-eorge  A.  Ouster,  U.  S. 
Yols."  Gen.  Pleasonton,  on  whose  staff  he  had  been  for  some 
time,  had  sent  in  his  name  and  those  of  four  others  to  the  Pres- 
ident, for  promotion  to  a  brigadier's  rank;  but  never  had  Ouster 
suspected  that  his  dash  and  daring  had  already  won  him  the  cov- 
eted rank. 

Through  the  war  we  need  not  follow  "the  boy-general,"  as  he 
was  called.  In  %iany  a  fierce  cavalry  charge  he  led  his  men, 
animated  by  the  splendid  courage  of  their  leader.  But  we  must 
not  fall  into  the  error  that  is  so  common,  the  idea  that  he  was 
but  a  handsome  figure-head,  placed  by  "  Ouster's  luck  "  at  the 
head  of  a  brigade,  and  later  of  a  division.  If  no  other  officer  .had 


GENERAL    GEOEGE   A.    OUSTER.  433 

that  good  fortune,  which,  connected  thus  with  his  name,  became 
proverbial,  it  was  because  no  one  else  could  so  quickly  decide 
what  was  to  be  done  while  the  guns  of  the  enemy  were  booming 
in  his  ears.  It  may  be  readily  believed  that  his  rapid  promotion 
did  not  endear  him  to  his  brother  officers,  especially  those  vet- 
erans over  whose  heads  he  stepped ;  but  before  he  had  led  that 
brigade  twice  into  battle,  his  men  were  ready  to  die  for  him; 
and  to  many  an  old  soldier's  eye  the  picture  is  still  vivid :  the 
tall  form  of  the  young  officer,  clad  in  trousers  and  loose  jacket  of 
velveteen,  the  sleeves  of  the  latter  garment  nearly  covered  with 
the  gold  lace  and  braid  which  he  used  to  indicate  his  rank;  the 
broad  falling  collar  of  his  blue  shirt  ornamented  with  the  silver 
star  of  a  brigadier ;  a  low-crowned,  broad-brimmed  soft  felt  hat 
sat  upon  the  flowing  golden  curls;  a  flaming  red  neck-tie  giving 
whatever  else  of  color  was  needed. 

Four  years  of  harcl  fighting,  and  the  war  was  over,  Gen.  Ouster 
receiving  the  first  flag  of  truce  sent  by  Gen.  Lee.  The  army 
must  be  reduced  to  a  peace  footing.  The  volunteers  were  mus- 
tered out,  those  officers  who  had  been  originally  civilians  return- 
ed to  their  homes;  the  old  army  officers,  stripped  of  the  rank  ac- 
quired in  connection  with  this  corps,  reduced  to  their  former 
station.  Major-General  Ouster  of  the  Volunteers  became  Captain 
Ouster  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry.  The  organization  of  the  Seventh 
Cavalry  in  July,  1866,  gave  him  a  commission  as  lieutenant-col- 
onel, the  three  highest  officers  in  the  regiment  being  major-gen- 
erals. He  had  wished  to  go  to  Mexico,  where  the  unfortunate 
emperor  Maximilian  was  gradually  losing  hifc  hold  upon  the  peo- 
ple, but  could  not  obtain  leave;  and  was  ordered  to  accompany 
President  Johnson  on  his  trip  to  Springfield,  Illinois,  for  the 
Lincoln  monument  celebration. 

Soon  came  the  welcome  orders  to  report  to  Fort  Eiley,  then 
the  terminus  of  the  Pacific  railroad,  and  the  young  couple  to 
whom  the  attendance  upon  the  President's  much  criticised  pro- 
gress had  been  a  delightful  pleasure  tour,  set  off  for  the  plains. 
Here,  in  command  of  the  regiment,  since  the  colonel  was  depart- 
ment chief,  much  hard  work  awaited  him.  Recruits  came  from 
the  large  towns,  enlisting  with  the  desire  to  shirk  every  duty 
which  they  could,  and  intending  to  desert  when  they  got  tired. 
These  must  be  transformed  to  veterans  and  heroes. 

The  Indians  saw  that  before  the  iron  horse  the  buffalo  must 
retreat,  and  exasperated  by  the  prospect  of  being  thus  reduce^ 


434 


GENERAL    GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 


GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    CUSTER.  435 

to  ignoble  work,  perpetrated  many  outrages.  During  the  sum- 
mer and  fall  of  1866  numerous  thefts  and  murders  had  been  com- 
mitted, the  stations  of  the  overland  mail  route  had  been  attacked, 
but  the  guilty  Cheyennes  and  Sioux  had  never  been  called  to  ac- 
count. The  agents  of  these  tribes  doubtless  knew  who  had  com- 
mitted these  offenses,  but  an  attempt  to  bring  them  to  punish- 
ment would  have  interfered  with  the  profits  of  trade ;  and  what- 
ever recent  investigation  may  have  failed  to  prove  of  the  Indian 
agents,  it  certainly  shows  that  they  are  not  as  honest  and  dis- 
interested as  our  favorite  political  candidate.  The  leading 
chiefs  and  warriors  of  the  various  tribes  had  threatened  an  out- 
break along  the  whole  frontier  as  soon  as  the  grass  was  green  in 
the  spring  ;  and  to  intimidate  these,  rather  than  to  punish  those 
who  had  already  committed  crimes,  G-cn.  Hancock  set  out  with  a 
large  force,  comprising  infantry,  cavalry  and  artillery.  At  Fort 
Eiley,  Gen.  Ouster  joined  this  force,  with  four  companies  of  his 
regiment. 

Much  time  was  consumed  in  trying  to  induce  the  Indians  to 
come  into  council.  Runners  had  been  sent  out  to  the  principal 
chiefs,  and  all  had  agreed  to  assemble  near  Fort  Larned  on  the 
tenth  of  April  •  but  they  encamped  thirty  miles  away.  It  soon  be- 
came evident  that  they  did  not  intend  to  allow  this  distance  to 
decrease  ;  the  message  to  the  effect  that,  discovering  a  large  herd 
of  buffalo,  they  had  stopped  to  procure  meat,  was  not  received 
with  much  confidence.  Gren.  Hancock  resolved  to  move  nearer 
to  the  Indian  encampment,  and  although  Bull  Bear,  a  Cheyenne 
chief,  reported  that  the  chiefs  of  his  own  tribe  and  the  Sioux  were 
on  their  way,  the  army  resumed  the  march.  They  had  gone  only 
a  few  miles  when  they  beheld  an  Indian  line  of  battle  drawn  di- 
rectly across  their  path.  There  were  several  hundred  warriors, 
most  of  them  mounted,  armed  with  bow  and  arrows,  tomahawk 
and  scalping-knife,  each  one  carrying,  besides  these  traditional 
arms  of  his  race,  either  a  revolver  or  a  breech-loading  rifle,  some 
being,  by  the  kindness  of  the  Indian  Department,  provided  with 
both.  Scattered  over  the  wide  extended  plain  were  small  parties, 
evidently  scouts  and  couriers. 

For  a  moment  a  fight  seemed  the  inevitable  result  of  this  war- 
like array.  The  infantry  and  artillery  formed  in  line  of  battle, 
and  the  cavalry  marching  on  the  flank  came  galloping  up,  their 
drawn  sabres  flashing  in  the  morning  sunlight.  Along  the  hos- 
tile line  rode  the  chiefs,  evidently  exhorting  their  warriors  to 
28 


436  GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 

deeds  of  heroism,  while  each  side  seemed  waiting  for  the  other 
to  strike  the  first  blow.  In  the  midst  of  the  universal  anxiety 
and  expectation,  Gen.  Hancock,  accompanied  by  his  staff,  rode 
forward  and  invited  the  chiefs  to  meet  him  midway  between  the 
two  opposing  forces.  About  ten  or  a  dozen  of  the  principal  Chey- 
ennes  and  Sioux  therefore  rode  to  the  point  designated,  and  shook 
hands  with  the  officers,  seemingly  much  gratified  at  this  peace- 
ful termination  of  the  encounter. 

The  interview  ended,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  plans  then 
proposed,  the  Indians  went  back  to  their  village,  the  soldiers 
following  leisurely  in  the  rear,  and  encamping  near  the  savages' 
lodges.  Here  they  found  that  the  women  and  children  had  fled 
in  dread  anticipation  of  a  massacre ;  and  two  chiefs,  who  volun- 
teered to  follow  and  bring  them  back  if  G-en.  Hancock  would 
provide  them  with  horses,  failed  to  return.  One  of  the  scouts, 
later  in  the  evening,  reported  that  the  rest  of  the  chiefs  were  sad- 
dling up  to  leave,  and  Ouster  was  at  once  directed  to  surround 
the  village  with  his  men  in  order  to  prevent  their  departure. 
Complete  quiet  reigned,  as  if  the  inmates  of  the  lodges  were 
asleep.  Investigation  showed  that  the  camp  was  entirely  empty ; 
fearful  of  a  massacre,  the  Indians  had  fled,  leaving  all  their  pro- 
perty. It  is  probable  that  the  scout  who  brought  the  inform- 
ation, himself  a  half-breed  Cheyenne,  had  played  a  double  game, 
the  long  operation  of  surrounding  the  village  so  quietly  as  not  to 
alarm  the  quick-eared  Indians,  causing  a  loss  of  much  valuable 
time. 

The  cavalry  was  ordered  to  follow  the  Indians.  Before  day- 
light all  their  careful  preparations  for  pursuit  were  completed ; 
and  all  chance  of  catching  the  fugitives  was  gone.  Following 
the  trail  carefully,  preceded  by  their  company  of  plainsmen  and 
friendly  Indians,  their  only  success  lay  in  compelling  their  ene- 
my to  disperse  into  small  parties.  Thus  the  trail  was  lost,  and 
the  troops  were  obliged  to  give  up  the  pursuit. 

Satisfied  that  the  Indians  must  be  many  miles  in  advance  of 
them,  and  that  the  country  was  full  of  game,  Gen.  Ouster  left 
his  men  before  they  found  that  the  Indians  had  separated,  and 
galloped  off  after  some  antelopes  that  were  descried  in  the  dis- 
tance. Always  a  lover  of  dogs,  he  was  accompanied  by  several 
fine  English  greyhounds,  and  was  mounted  on  a  thorough-bred 
horse  of  remarkable  size  and  speed.  But  though  he  took  advan- 
tage of  every  turn,  the  fleet  animals  eluded  his  pursuit,  and  call- 


GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    CUSTEK.  437 

ing  off  his  dogs,  he  was  trying  to  determine  how  far  he  was  from 
the  troops,  when  he  saw,  about  a  mile  from  him,  a  large,  dark  ani- 
mal grazing.  Though  he  had  never  seen  one  in  its  wild  state, 
he  instantly  recognized  this  as  a  buffalo,  and  of  the  largest  size. 
An  ardent  sportsman,  this  was  an  opportunity  such  as  had  never 
yet  befallen  him.  Calling  his  dogs  to  follow  him,  he  slowly  pur- 
sued the  course  of  a  neighboring  ravine  until  he  had  approached 
nearly  within  pistol-shot  of  the  game;  his  leisurely  advance  be- 
ing designed  to  give  the  horse  opportunity  to  recover  himself 
for  a  second  run.  The  buffalo  discovered  the  presence  of  the 
hunter,  and  set  off  at  his  utmost  speed. 

Fast  and  far  sped  the  frightened  buffalo  ;  the  good  greyhounds 
were  left  behind  ;  only  the  horse  and  his  rider  followed  the  huge 
animal,  and  at  last  commenced  to  gain  upon  him.  Mile  after  mile 
over  the  springy  turf,  and  the  mettle  of  the  thoroughbred  began  to 
show  in  the  race  for  life  and  death.  The  protruding  tongue  and 
labored  breathing  of  the  bison  proved  that  he  could  not  long 
continue  his  flight,  and  the  wild,  delighted  yells  of  the  hunter 
greeted  these  evidences  of  weakness.  Placing  the  muzzle  of 
his  revolver  close  to  the  shaggy  hide  of  the  buffalo,  he  had  his 
finger  on  the  trigger,  when  the  animal,  exhausted  by  the  long 
chase,  and  feeling  himself  unable  to  escape  by  flight,  wheeled 
around  and  lowered  his  horns  to  gore  the  horse.  Instinctively 
the  charger  veered  about  to  avoid  the  attack,  and  to  retain  con- 
trol over  him  the  rider  brought  his  right  hand  to  the  assistance 
of  his  left.  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  his  finger  pressed 
the  trigger,  and  the  ball  went  straight  through  the  brain  of  the 
horse.  He  fell  dead  in  the  midst  of  his  leap,  and  Ouster,  disen- 
gaging himself  from  the  stirrups  as  soon  as  he  realized  the  situa- 
tion, found  himself  whirling  in  the  air  beyond  his  horse's  head, 
his  one  thought  being : 

"What  will  the  buffalo  do  with  me  ?" 

But  Mr.  Bison  was  too  much  astonished  by  the  strange  pro- 
ceeding to  make  any  attack  upon  his  late  pursuer,  and  he  fled 
over  the  prairies,  this  time  unchased.  Fortunately  for  Ouster  in 
his  buffalo  hunt  he  had  retraced  the  steps  taken  in  pursuit  of  the 
antelopes,  and  was  now  ahead  of  his  own  column. 

G-iving  up  the  idea  of  catching  the  Indians,  it  was  decided  to 
push  on  and  warn  the  stations  on  the  stage  route  that  the  Chey- 
ennes  and  Sioux  would  soon  be  on  the  war-path  ;  but  for  many 
the  warning  came  too  late.  The  golden  opportunity  had  been 


438  GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CUSTER. 

lost  when  Gen.  Hancock  allowed  the  Indian  village  to  be  desert- 
ed. Of  course,  Ouster,  a  young  officer  without  experience  in  this 
kind  of  fighting,  could  not  pretend  to  advise  a  general  of  Han- 
cock's long  service  on  the  plains. 

The  abandoned  village  was  burned,  and  war  formally  opened. 
Gen.  Hancock  called  a  council  at  Fort  Dodge,  where  the  Kiowas 
and  Arapahoes  were  the  most  prominent  tribes  represented.  Ex- 
travagant promises  of  good  conduct  were  made,  especially  by 
Satanta,  of  the  Kiowas,  and  his  fervid  friendship  was  soon  re- 
warded by  the  gift  of  the  uniform  coat,  sash  and  hat  of  a  major- 
general.  When  he  attacked  Fort  Dodge  a  few  weeks  later,  he 
was  thus  enabled  to  appear  in  full  uniform. 

With  a  force  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  men,  Ouster  was  or- 
dered on  his  first  Indian  scout,  with  directions  to  proceed  from 
Fort  Hays,  in  Kansas,  to  Fort  McPherson,  in  Nebraska;  thence 
southward  in  a  semi-circle,  returning  to  Fort  Hays  by  way  of 
Forts  Sedgwick  and  Wallace.  This  would  involve  a  ride  of  more 
than  a  thousand  miles. 

Having  seen  but  one  war  party  of  Indians  since  leaving  the 
main  body,  and  unable  to  catch  that,  they  arrived  at  Fort  Mc- 
Pherson, remaining  there  a  few  days,  in  accordance  with  the  or- 
ders of  Gen.  Sherman.  Here  Ouster  learned  another  important 
lesson  in  Indian  fighting.  A  council  was  held  this  time  with 
Pawnee  Killer,  one  of  the  Sioux  chiefs  who  had  escaped  from 
Gen.  Hancock.  Promising  to  bring  his  band  to  encamp  by  the 
fort,  he  received  from  Ouster  presents  of  such  finery  and  dainties 
as  were  best  suited  to  his  taste,  and  left  for  his  village. 

Gen.  Sherman,  soon  afterward  arrived,  and  from  him  Ouster 
learned  what  was  the  value  of  Pawnee  Killer's  promises.  A  de- 
tachment sent  out  immediately  to  find  the  chief  and  make  him  do 
as  he  had  promised,  failed  in  its  object,  and  Ouster  and  his  men 
set  out  on  their  return  expedition.  No  real  fighting  had  yet  oc- 
curred ;  but  plenty  of  Indian  warfare,  attended  by  its  utmost  bar- 
barities, was  soon  to  be  experienced.  According  to  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  plan  first  proposed,  a  trusty  officer  was  to  be  sent, 
with  a  sufficient  escort,  to  Fort  Sedgwick  with  Ouster's  despatch, 
and  to  receive  any  despatches  there  for  him.  The  train  of  twenty 
wagons  was  to  go  to  Fort  Wallace  for  supplies,  the  condition  of 
the  roads  preventing  such  a  journey  to  McPherson. 

Major  Elliot  was  selected  as  the  bearer  of  despatches,  and  set 
out  with  an  escort  of  ten  men  in  one  direction  at  the  same  time 


GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 


439 


440  GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 

that  the  train,  guarded  by  a  full  squadron  of  cavalry,  left  the 
camp  in  another.  The  rest  of  the  force  settled  down  to  the  ted- 
ious task  of  waiting,  the  monotony  of  which  was  only  relieved 
by  the  evening  concert  of  the  wolves  around  the  camp,  and  by  a 
visit  from  Pawnee  Killer  and  some  of  his  braves.  These,  as  be- 
fore, professed  great  friendship  for  the  whites,  and  especially  for 
the  "  Yellow  Chief;"  such  was  the  Indian  form  of  the  newspaper 
correspondent's  "  floating  golden  curls  of  the  boy-general."  Paw- 
nee Killer  had  no  great  respect  for  the  young  officer  whom  he 
had  already  fooled,  and  wound  up  the  conference  by  a  request  for 
coffee,  sugar  and  ammunition  ;  but  his  contempt  was  unmerited. 
Ouster  had  learned  the  lesson,  and  was  not  to  be  again  deceived 
into  trusting  an  Indian.  The  Sioux,  despairing  of  being  able  to 
massacre  the  soldiers,  for  such  had  been  the  object  of  their  com- 
ing, took  to  flight;  the  chief  managing  to  secure  a  revolver  that 
had  been  left  lying  near  him ;  and  the  large  and  heavy  horses  of 
the  troops  being  unable  to  overtake  the  fleet  and  hardy  ponies 
of  the  Indians,  the  party,  after  a  short  pursuit,  returned  to  camp. 

The  success  of  a  troop  sent  out  against  a  small  body  of  the 
savages  that  appeared  soon  afterwards,  did  not  entirely  reassure 
them ;  much  anxiety  was  felt  regarding  Major  Elliot  and  his  men, 
and  the  wagon  train.  The  former  was  thought  to  be  in  the  most 
danger,  from  the  weakness  of  the  party;  but  when,  a  few  days 
afterwards,  the  little  detachment,  safe  and  sound,  rode  into  camp, 
the  general  felt  assured  that  the  hostile  Indians  would  attack 
the  train.  He  could  not  hope  that  they  had  remained  in  ignor- 
ance of  either  expedition  ;  but,  knowing  of  both,  they  probably 
determined  to  wait  until  the  wagons  loaded  with  supplies  should 
return,  and  thus  secure  a  victory  that  should  be  more  than  an 
empty  honor. 

Thinking  this,  and  believing  that  h.is  wife,  whom  he  thought 
at  Fort  Wallace,  would  put  herself  under  protection  of  the  train 
to  join  him  in  camp,  Ouster  determined  to  take  every  possible 
measure  for  the  protection  of  this  party.  He  accordingly  sent 
out  a  full  squadron,  well  mounted  and  armed,  to  meet  the  train, 
which  was  defended  by  forty-eight  men.  Attack  was  not  antici- 
pated before  the  wagons  reached  Beaver  Creek,  fifty  miles  from 
the  camp,  as  they  would  have  the  advantage  of  a  larger  escort  as 
far  as  that  point. 

The  way  from  the  camp  to  Fort  Wallace  lay  over  the  open 
plain,  where  the  deep  ravines  leading  to  the  water  courses  would 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.   OUSTER.  441 

afford  shelter  to  unfriendly  Indians.  Yet  so  level  was  the  plain, 
so  almost  imperceptible  was  the  course  of  the  ravines,  that  an  un- 
practised eye  would  have  seen  no  place  of  concealment. 

"If  the  Injuns  strike  us  at  all/'  said  the  wary  scout,  Comstock, 
with  the  train,  as  they  approached  a  point  of  which  we  shall 
hear  again,  "it  will  be  just  about  the  time  that  we're  comin' 
back  along  this  very  spot.  Now  mind  what  I  tell  you,  all." 

The  suggestion  of  a  young  and  inexperienced  officer  that  the 
Indians  seemed  to  have  departed  from  that  region,  brought  the 
reply,  full  of  wisdom:  "  Whar  thar  ain't  no  Injuns,  thar  you'll 
find  'em  thickest." 

And  as  they  approached  this  spot  on  the  return,  the  keen  eye  of 
the  scout  saw  peering  over  the  brow  of  the' hill  far  away  to  the 
right,  strange  figures.  His  field-glass  revealed  that  they  were  In- 
dians, and  his  judgment  was  soon  confirmed  by  the  officers.  In  a 
little  while  the  sharp-eyed  savages  saw  that  they  were  discovered 
and  rode  boldly  to  the  crest  of  the  hill.  Twenty,  thirty,  a  hun- 
dred warriors  came  in  view,  and  still  from  beyond  the  hill  new 
hosts  appeared.  Between  six  and  seven  hundred  Indians,  array- 
ed in  full  war  costume,  brilliantly  hideous  with  paint  and  feath- 
ers, armed  with  carbines  and  revolvers,  sometimes  with  bows 
and  arrows,  bore  down  upon  them. 

The  white  men  could  only  resolve  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly 
as  possible.  The  train  was  formed  in  two  parallel  columns,  the 
cavalry  horses  between  them ;  the  dismounted  men  being  formed 
in  a  circle  enclosing  the  wagons,  then  the  march  was  resumed.  As 
they  went  onward  in  momentary  expectation  of  an  attack,  the 
Indians  continued  to  approach  until  they  came  within  easy  range ; 
the  troops  had  orders,  however,  not  to  fire  unless  attacked.  Sud- 
denly, with  a  wild  whoop,  the  savages  rushed  at  them.  To  stam- 
pede the  horses,  to  massacre  the  escort,  to  carry  off  the  supplies 
in  the  wagons — such  was  evidently  their  plan.  Forward  they 
dashed,  as  if  to  trample  beneath  the  feet  of  their  ponies  the  hand- 
ful of  men  at  that  side  of  the  wagons ;  the  cavalrymen  dropped 
to  their  knees  as  the  Indians  came  thundering  upon  them,  and 
taking  deliberate  aim  at  the  moving  mass,  poured  a  deadly  vol- 
ley into  the  crowded  ranks.  As  they  wheeled  off  to  the  right, 
only  pausing  to  gain  possession  of  the  bodies  of  those  who  had 
fallen,  the  white  men  cheered  loudly,  and  Comstock  taunted  them, 
in  their  own  tongue,  with  their  lack  of  success.  But  his  words 
to  his  companions  gave  a  less  hopeful  view.  Seeing  that  the  sav- 


442  GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    CUSTER. 

ages  had  withdrawn  out  of  rifle  range,  where  they  were  evident- 
ly holding  a  consultation,  he  said  : 

"There's  no  sich  good  luck  as  that  they're  goin'  to  give  it  up 
so.  Six  hundred  red  devils  ain't  agoin'  to  let  fifty  men  keep  'em 
from  gettin'  at  the  sugar  and  coffee  that's  in  these  wagons,  and 
they  want  our  scalps  besides,  to  pay  for  them  we  popped  over  a 
few  minutes  ago." 

As  the  officers  passed  along  the  line,  cautioning  the  men  not  to 
waste  ammunition,  as  all  of  it  on  hand  would  probably  be  need- 
ed, the  Indians  returned  to  the  attack,  but  in  a  different  manner. 
They  had  hoped  at  first  that  their  great  superiority  of  numbers 
would  enable  them  to  accomplish  easily  their  purpose  ;  but  this 
style  of  attack,  so  foreign  to  the  Indian's  nature,  had  proven  un- 
fortunate, and  they  determined  to  act  with  greater  caution.  Led 
by  the  chiefs,  the  whole  army  of  redskins  rode  in  single  file,  at  a 
safe  distance  from  the  carbines  of  the'  troops.  Gradually  the  long 
line  turned,  curving  around  the  smaller  circle  of  troops,  until 
the  whites  were  completely  surrounded.  Still  they  rode  around 
and  around,  as  the  vulture  circles  about  the  dying  prey.  Each 
warrior  throws  himself  upon  the  side  of  his  well-trained  pony, 
leaving  only  his  head  and  one  foot  exposed,  and  thus  protected 
by  a  living  barricade,  aims  either  over  or  under  the  neck  of  his 
steed. 

Still  the  little  force  of  white  men  marched  steadily  onward,  de- 
fending themselves  with  results  fatal  to  many  Indians.  For  three 
hours  the  fight  was  kept  up,  and  now  every  moment  increased 
the  danger.  Although  the  redskins  had  suffered  great  loss  in 
men  and  ponies,  the  cavalry  found  their  supply  of  ammunition 
was  running  low,  and  would  soon  be  exhausted.  Night  or  a  rein- 
forcement was  the  only  hope  ;  but  it  was  still  early  in  the  day, 
and  their  comrades  in  the  camp  could  not  know  what  had  befall- 
en them. 

Meanwhile  the  keen-eyed  Indian  scouts,  posted  along  the  high 
bluffs  which  bordered  the  plain,  had  seen  a  faint,  dark  line  on  the 
horizon  ;  a  line  which  might  be  a  break  in  the  ground,  the  shadow 
of  a  cloud.  But  slowly  it  moved  along,  as  if  the  cloud  were 
driven  by  the  winds,  and  in  a  moment  the  savages  saw  that  it  was 
a  column  of  cavalry  moving  rapidly  towards  them.  Three  hours 
hard  riding  had  exhausted  even  the  hardy  Indian  ponies,  and 
the  chiefs  and  warriors  decided  to  escape  while  it  was  still  pos- 
sible. The  cavalry  was  at  least  two  hours'  journey  from  them. 


GENERAL  OEOEGE  A.   OUSTER. 


443 


444  GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    CtlSTER. 

but  their  horses  might  bo  in  good  condition  for  pursuit,  and  be 
able  to  overtake  them.  Your  true  "  noble  red  man  "  always  wish- 
es large  odds  against  his  enemy. 

To  the  surprise  of  the  troops,  then,  a  furious  hail  of  shot  and 
arrows  was  followed  by  their  withdrawal ;  busily  engaged  in  at- 
tending to  the  wounded,  of  whom,  however,  there  were  but  few, 
about  an  hour  had  passed  when  new  cause  for  alarm  appeared — 
a  body  of  horsemen  approaching  them.  Another  force  of  Indians, 
they  thought;  but  the  field-glasses  revealed  to  them  the  familiar 
blue  blouses  of  their  comrades,  and  the  hasty  retreat  of  their  as- 
sailants was  explained. 

Great  anxiety  was  felt  in  regard  to  a  party  of  eleven  men,  that 
had  been  sent  to  Fort  Wallace  on  a  mission  similar  to  Major  El- 
liot's, under  the  command  of  Lieutenant  Kidder.  Comstock's 
opinion  was  far  from  encouraging  : 

"  Ef  I  knowed  what  kind  of  a  man  the  lootenant  was,  I  could 
tell  you  mighty  nigh  to  a  certainty  what  you  want  to  know.  But, 
yer  see,  Injun  huntin'  and  Injun  fightin'  is  a  trade  of  itself,  and 
it  takes  some  time  to  larn  the  business.  Ef  a  man  don't  know 
what  he's  about,  he  can't  make  a  livin'  at  it.  I've  lots  of  confi- 
dence in  the  fightin'  sense  of  Red  Bead  (the  Sioux  guide),  and 
ef  he  can  have  his  way  about  it,  thar's  a  purty  fair  show.  But  I 
don't  know  how  far  the  lootenant  will  take  advice.  I  reckon 
them  young  fellers  that  have  jist  come  from  West  Pint  know  all 
the  book-larnin',  but  they  ain't  had  a  chance  at  anything  else,  and 
ginerally,  if  one  of  'em  knowed  half  as  much  as  he  thinks  he  does, 
you  couldn't  tell  him  nothing." 

The  command  had  in  the  meantime  moved  forward  from  the 
forks  of  the  Republican  River  to  the  Platte,  and  it  was  determined 
to  return  to  the  point  at  which  a  large  body  had  left  the  main 
party,  lest  Lieutenant  Kidder  should  miss  the  trail.  At  length  they 
found  the  trail  of  the  detachment,  leading  to  the  old  camp  on  the 
Republican.  Two  days  farther  would  take  them  to  Fort  Wallace, 
hence  they  must  soon  know  the  fate  of  the  party.  At  length  the 
body  of  a  white  horse  was  found,  shot  within  the  last  few  days, 
and  with  the  brand  TJ.  S.  It  was  the  color  of  those  ridden  by 
the  force,  and  there  was  but  little  room  to  doubt  that  it  was  one 
of  theirs.  All  the  equipments  had  been  carried  away,  and  noth- 
ing remained  to  indicate  whether  it  had  been  taken  ill,  and  shot 
by  the  soldiers,  or  killed  in  a  fight.  Proceeding  onward,  they 
found  the  trail  regular  and  unhurried,  as  when  at  first  discov- 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


445 


ered  ;  after  going  a  little  distance  they  found  another  horse, 
near  which  Comstock's  eye  saw  pony  tracks ;  and  the  solution 
was  no  longer  doubtful. 

Following  the  trail,  they  found  evidence  that  Kidder  and  his 
men  must  have  trusted  to  the  speed  of  their  horses ;  and  for  sev- 
eral miles  the  pursuit  had  continued.  Within  a  mile  of  Beaver 
Creek,  where  a  dense  growth  of  tall  wild  grass  was  mingled  with 
clumps  of  osiers,  they  saw  large  buzzards  floating  in  the  air  above 
them,  and  the  odor  which  pervaded  the  atmosphere  was  unmis- 
takable. Biding  in  all  directions  in  search  of  them,  one  of  the 
Delawares  accompanying  them  uttered  a  shout  that  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  whole  command.  There,  within  the  limits  of  a  very 
small  circle,  lay  the  mangled,  mutilated  bodies  of  the  eleven 
men.  Every  scalp  but  Red  Bead's  had  been  taken,  and  every 
skull  crushed  by  the  blow  of  a  tomahawk  ;  the  features  of  each 
face  so  disfigured  that  not  one  could  be  recognized,  nor  could 
the  officer  be  distinguished  from  the  men;  each  body  was  brist- 
ling with  arrows.  How  long  the  fight  continued  could  not  be 
told,  but  evidence  of  a  desperate  struggle  was  found  about  the 
ground.  Only  the  body  of  the  Sioux  chief  was  not  mutilated, 
conclusive  proof  that  this  was  the  work  of  his  own  tribo.  The 
fact  that  the  throats  of  all  were  cut,  was,  to  the  experienced 
plainsmen,  another  indication  of  the  same  thing;  since  this  was 
the  mark  by  which  the  Sioux  designated  their  victims.  The 
bodies  were  buried  in  a  large  trench,  and  the  march  was  con- 
tinued. 

But  another  danger  beset  the  command,  this  time  from  within 
itself.  Allured  by  the  large  wages  paid  to  miners,  and  fright- 
ened by  the  fate  of  those  who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians, 
many  of  the  men  deserted,  some  in  broad  daylight,  riding  oif  in 
sight  of  their  officers,  and  firing  upon  pursuers.  Of  the  fifty- 
three  deserters,  who  escaped  in  this  way  or  under  cover  of  night, 
six  were  recaptured  ;  and  strict  vigilance  prevented  any  further 
attempt. 

Arriving  at  Fort  "Wallace,  Ouster  found  the  supplies  at  that 
point  nearly  exhausted,  and  no  communication  existing  between 
that  and  other  stations.  He  accordingly  selected  a  hundred  of 
his  best  mounted  men  to  go  to  Fort  Harker,  a  distance  of  two 
hundred  miles,  and  judging  that  Fort  Wallace  would  be  left  in 
peace,  chose  to  accompany  it  himself.  At  every  station  they 
heard  of  Indians  having  been  in  the  vicinity  within  a  few  days 


446 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


of  their  arrival,  but  for  some  time  found  no  fresh  signs  of  their 
neighborhood.  Eapid  marching,  however,  was  necessary,  and 
though  two  men  were  killed  by  the  Indians  while  far  in  the  rear, 
they  were  left  to  be  buried  by  the  troops  at  the  nearest  station. 

Leaving  the  command  to  rest  one  day  at  Fort  Hays,  General 
Ouster,  accompanied  by  Cols.  Cook  and  Ouster  and  two  troop- 
ers, rode  on  to  Fort  Harkcr.  Here  he  sent  telegrams  announc- 
ing the  Kidder  massacre,  and  there  being  no  necessity  for  his 
presence  until  the  train  should  be  ready  to  return,  asked  and  re- 
ceived of  General  Smith,  his  superior  officer,  authority  to  visit 
his  family  at  Fort  Riley,  ninety  miles  by  rail  from  Fort  Harker. 
The  ingenuity  of  his  enemies  turned  this  expedition  for  sup- 
plies into  a  journey  on 
private  business ;  and  for 
leaving  Fort  Wallace 
without  orders,  marching 
his  men  excessively,  and 
allowing  two  of  them  to 
be  killed,  he  was  actually 
brought  before  a  court- 
martial.  Custer  showed 
that  he  had  acted  upon 

the   last    orders   that 


GEN.  PHILIP  H.   SHERIDAN. 


him  to  proceed  to  Fort 
Wallace,  where  Gen.  Han- 
cock would  give  him  further  directions  ;  that  since  the  latter  offi- 
cer had  left  Fort  Wallace  before  his  arrival,  he  thought  it  his 
duty  to  follow  him  personally,  but  necessity  had  compelled  him 
to  obtain  supplies  for  the  station.  But  the  Indian  campaign  of 
1867  had  been  a  failure,  and  it  was  necessary  to  find  a  scape-goat. 
Custer  was  therefore  selected  to  be  held  up  as  the  cause  of  fail- 
ure, and  being  found  guilty,  was  sentenced  to  be  suspended  from 
rank  and  pay  for  a  year.  The  justice  of  this  sentence  is  not 
apparent;  if  he  deserved  any  punishment  at  all,  if  the  charges 
were  at  all  true,  he  should  have  been  instantly  dismissed;  if  this 
was  too  severe  for  the  facts,  he  was  not  guilty  of  the  offense  with 
which  he  was  charged. 

Gen.  Sheridan  was  put  in  command  of  this  Indian  country,  and 
arrived  at  Leavenworth,  where  Custer  was  tried,  just  after  sen- 


CALIFORNIA   JOE.  447 

tence  was  passed;  not  a  word  could  he  say  of  trial  or  sentence; 
etiquette  prevented  him;  but  he  placed  his  suite  of  apartments, 
reserved  for  him  as  department  commander,  at  Ouster's  disposal. 
But  as  spring  came  on,  and  with  it  the  Indian  campaign,  Ouster 
could  not  bear  to  see  the  regiment  depart  for  active  service  while 
he  was  left  behind;  so  he  returned  to  Monroe,  Michigan,  where 
his  boyhood  had  been  passed  at  his  sister's  house,  and  where  he 
had  met  and  married  his  wife. 

While  he  tried  to,.kill  time  here,  and,  being  of  a  disposition  in- 
clined to  make  the  best  of  things,  doubtless  succeeded,  his  com- 
rades on  the  plains,  trying  to  kill  Indians,  were  less  fortunate. 
The  campaign  of  the  spring  and  summer  of  1868  was  as  great  a 
failure  as  that  of  the  previous  year.  Even  in  his  short  experi- 
ence, Ouster  had  shown  himself  good  material  for  an  Indian  fight- 
er, and  early  in  the  fall  he  received  a  telegram  from  Gen.  Sheri- 
dan, asking  him  to  come  at  once  to  join  his  regiment,  on  the 
strength  of  an  application  for  him  made  by  Gens.  Sherman  and 
Sheridan,  and  nearly  all  the  officers  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 
Leaving  at  once,  he  was  overtaken  by  a  despatch  from  the  adju- 
tant general,  directing  him  to  report  to  Gen.  Sheridan ;  the  au- 
thorities had  yielded  to  the  necessity  of  the  case. 

CALIFORNIA   JOE. 

After  reporting  as  ordered,  he  proceeded  to  the  camp  of  his 
regiment,  thirty  miles  southeast  of  Fort  Dodge.  Finding  that 
there  were  many  scouts  attached  to  the  various  bodies  of  cavalry 
into  which  the  main  force  had  been  divided,  and  that  these  acted 
independently  of  each  other,  he  decided  to  organize  them  into 
a  special  detachment,  under  the  command  of  one  of  their  own 
number.  The  next  thing  was  the  selection  of  such  a  chief,  a  task 
by  no  means  easy  to  the  officer  unacquainted  with  the  compara- 
tive merits  of  the  men.  One  attracted  his  attention  :  a  man  of 
forty  or  more  years,  his  well-proportioned  figure  more  than  six 
feet  high ;  a  huge  sombrero  crowned  the  head,  the  natural  cover- 
ing of  which  floated  in  luxuriant  dark  curls  to  the  shoulders ; 
the  pleasant,  intelligent  face  was  half  hidden  by  a  long  brown 
beard  and  moustache,  but  the  kindly  black  eye  was  not  obscured, 
even  by  the  clouds  of  smoke  that  issued  from  his  constant  com- 
panion, a  stubby  briarwood  pipe.  "  California  Joe  "  was  the 
name  by  which  he  was  known,  and  no  effort  has  succeeded  in  as- 
certaining any  other.  This  was  the  man  whom  Ouster  now 


448  CALIFORNIA   JOE. 

appointed  chief  of  the  scouts,  and  a  short  account  of  the  experi- 
ence which  fitted  him.  for  the  position  will  not  be  out  of  place. 

From  Kentucky,  in  1849,  a  party  of  sixty-five  adventurers  set 
out  towards  the  gold-fields  of  California.  Not  knowing  the  dan- 
gers of  the  plains,  they  slept  night  after  night  without  a  guard. 
The  result  need  hardly  be  told.  Two  hundred  Indians  crept 
stealthily  into  the  silent  camp,  only  announcing  their  presence 
by  the  dull  crash  qf  the  tomahawk,  as  it  cleft  the  skull  of  a  slum- 
berer.  A  woman  and  two  little  boys  were  among  the  sixty-three 
victims,  while  Joe,  the  husband  and  father  *  sorely  wounded,  es- 
caped after  enduring  almost  incredible  hardships  to- Port  Lyon. 
But  he  had  started  out  to  reach  the  state  from  which  he  took  his 
name,  and  in  less  than  two  months  he  was  ready  to  continue  his 
journey.  But  in  spite  of  the  constant  watch  which  was  kept, 
the  little  party  was  attacked;  two  men  were  killed,  and  the  third 
taken  prisoner.  The  bravest  may  well  tremble  at  the  fate  which 
now  awaited  California  Joe ;  and  he  made  strenuous  efforts  to 
avoid  it  by  compelling  them  to  kill  him  at  once.  His  struggles, 
his  writhings,  his  cries  were  alike  unheeded,  for  they  knew  he 
was  too  firmly  bound  to  escape,  and  thought  no  help  was  near 
him. 

One  of  the  chiefs  cut  off  the  outer  rim  of  each  of  Joe's  ears  and 
placed  the  pieces  in  his  belt.  The  fire  was  kindled  a  short  dis- 
tance from  his  feet,  being  thus  placed  that  the  torture  might  be 
prolonged ;  but  as  the  flames  arose,  and  were  reflected  from  the 
clouds,  that  which  was  meant  to  be  torment  became  a  means  of 
bringing  help,  for  a  party  of  fifty  trappers,  encamped  less  than 
half  a  mile  away,  saw  the  reflection  in  the  sky,  and  guided  to 
the  exact  spot  by  Joe's  lusty  yells,  put  the  Indians  to  flight  and 
rescued  the  prisoner. 

A  peaceful  life  followed  this  adventure,  lasting  for  more  than 
a  year;  spent  in  trapping  with  his  rescuers.  More  than  one  ro- 
mantic story  of  the  border  is  remembered  in  connection  with  his 
name,  of  which  the  recovery  of  little  Maggie  Reynolds  is  perhaps 
the  most  charming.  The  eleven  year  old  daughter  of  a  hardy  trap- 
per, she  left  her  home  on  the  Yellowstone  one  morning,  as  she  had 
often  done  before,  for  a  hunt.  Night  came,  but  Maggie  had  not 
returned.  Bay  after  day  passed,  and  the  search  which  they  in- 
stituted was  fruitless.  They  could  only  guess  what  had  befallen 
her. 

Months  had  passed  away,  and  to  the  little  cabin  came  Califor- 


r 


CALIFORNIA   JOE.  449 

nia  Joe,  who  was  then  trapping  near  by.  To  him  the  story  was 
told,  but  when  they  suggested  that  she  had  been  devoured  by 
some  wild  beast,  he  shook  his  head : 

"  Til  bet  a  silver  fox's  skin  that  that  ar  gal  is  now  with  them 
'tarnal.  Cheyennes.  I  beared  thar  was  a  white  face  with  'em." 

The  mother's  heart  stood  still ;  such  a  captivity  was  worse  than 
death  for  her  child. 

"  Ain't  thar  any  way  ter  git  her  out  of  their  clutches  ?" 

"Yer  may  just  bet  thar  is,  and  I'll  do  it  myself." 

A  judicious  supply  of  fire-water  furnished  to  four  Indians,  with 
the  promise  of  more,  secured  their  services.  A  large  village  of 
their  tribe  was  sought  and  entered,  their  presence  not  exciting 
any  alarm.  Were  they  not  Cheyennes?  To  the  little  pale-face, 
who  served  a  squaw,  cross  and  exacting,  like  all  Indian  women, 
because  so  treated  herself,  they  whispered  of  a  canoe,  where  the 
thick  forest  overhung  the  yellow  Missouri;  of  the  quiet  of  mid- 
night; of  the  hope  of  reaching  home.  More  noiselessly  than  the 
antelope  bounds  over  the  thick  grass  of  the  prairies  did  the  girl 
leave  the  camp,  escaping  unheard  by  the  squaw  at  whose  side  she 
slept.  Now  the  image  of  the  morn  wavered  upon  the  surface  of 
the  water,  rippled  by  the  breeze,  and  slipping,  sliding,  clambering 
down  the  bank  where  only  the  thick  roots  held  the  sandy  soil 
from  the  river,  she  leaped  into  the  dusky  arms  outstretched  to  re- 
ceive her,  and  was  soon  safe  at  home.  As  the  story  is  sometimes 
told,  Maggie  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  the  man  who  had 
planned  her  rescue ;  but  this  is  by  no  means  certain. 

He  attained  considerable  reputation  during  the  war,  being  es- 
teemed the  most  .skillful  marksman  in  Berdan's  sharpshooters. 
For  several  years  after  the  war  he  was  attached  to  G-en.  Curtis' 
command,  and  finally,  as  we  have  seen,  was  appointed  chief  of 
scouts  by  Custer.  The  close  of  the  first  interview  after  the  ap- 
pointment was  announced,  is  characteristic  of  both. 

"  See  hyar,  Gineral,  in  order  that  we  hev  no  misonderstandin', 

d  jest  like  to  ask  yer  a  few  questions." 

"Certainly,  Joe,"  answered  the  officer,  sniffing  the  fun  from 
afar. 

"  Air  you  an  ambulance  man,  or  a  boss  man?" 

"  What  do  you  mean?     I  don't  understand  your  question." 

"  I  mean,  do  you  b'lieve  in  ketchin'  Injuns  in  ambulances  or  on 
hoss-back  ?" 

"  Well,  Joe,  I  believe  in  catching  Indians  wherever  we  can  find 


450 


CALIFORNIA   JOE. 


them,  whether  they  are  found  in  ambulances  or  on  horse-back." 

"  That  ain't  what  I'm  drivin'  at.  S'pose  you're  after  Injuns  and 

really  want  to  hev  a  tussle  with  'em,  would  ye  start  after  'em  on 


CALIFORNIA  JOE. 

hoss-back,  or  would  ye  climb  into  an  ambulance  and  be  hauled 
after  'em  ?    That's  the  p'int  I'm  headin'  fur." 

"  Well,  Joe,  if  I  really  desired  to  catch  them,  I  would  prefer 
the  horseback  method ;  but  if  I  wished  them  to  catch  me,  I'd 
adopt  the  ambulance  system  of  attack." 


CALIFORNIA    JOE.  451 

Joe's  rugged  features  beamed  with  satisfaction  as  he  answered  : 

"  You've  hit  the  nail  squar'  on  the  head.  I've  been  with  'em 
on  the  plains  whar'  they  started  out  after  the  Injuns  on  wheels, 
jist  as  ef  they  was  agoin'  to  a  town  funeral  in  the  states,  and  they 
stood  about  as  many  chances  of  ketchin'  Injuns  as  a  six-mule 
team  would  uv  ketchin'  a  pack  of  thievin'  Kiotees,  — jist  as 
much." 

Probably  from  sheer  pleasure  at  finding  his  new  superior  a 
man  so  after  his  own  heart,  Joe  improved  his  opportunities  by 
getting  drunk  that  very  night.  This  was  a  fault  with  which 
Custer  had  no  patience,  and  the  offender  was  degraded  the  next 
day  from  the  rank  of  chief  of  scouts  to  that  of  simple  scout;  in 
which  capacity  he  remained  with  Custer  for  the  rest  of  the  cam- 
paign, and  did  good  service. 

The  terrible  fight  with  a  panther,  which  left  scars  upon  him  to 
the  day  of  his  death;  the  timely  bullet  which  saved  his  friend, 
struggling  unarmed  with  a  burly  Indian  who  had  crept  upon  him 
unawares;  many  a  bold  scouting  expedition;  must  all  remain  un- 
told. Volunteering  his  services  to  G-en.  Crook  in  1876,  he  be- 
came disgusted  with  that  officer.  "He  won't  furnish  pie  to  his 
men,"  urged  Joe,  with  offended  dignity.  But  dignity,  sense  of 
injury,  desire  of  remonstrating,  resolution  to  hold  aloof,  all  van- 
ished before  the  potent  charm  of  a  certain  black  bottle,  that  con- 
tained something  better  than  pie.  At  any  rate,  such  was  Joe's 
opinion  of  its  contents. 

But  though  the  briarwood  pipe  seldom  left  his  lips,  it  did  not 
make  him  a  silent  man.  ]STotable  even  among  scouts,  who  are 
never  taciturn  when  off  duty,  Joe's  silence  was  a  thing  unknown. 
His  "  partner,"  the  friend  whose  life  he  had  saved,  rarely  ut- 
tered a  word,  and  as  Jack  Sprat  and  his  wife  divided  the  meat, 
Joe  and  his  friend  entertained  each  other.  Joe  was  killed  by  an 
unknown  man  early  in  December,  1876;  the  reason  for  the  act 
being  still  a  mystery. 

Little  of  interest  was  done  for  a  month  after  Custer  rejoined 
his  command.  The  regiment  had  lost  many  of  its  old  men  by 
desertion  since  the  commander's  court-martial,  and  the  green  re- 
cruits could  not  ride  or  shoot.  Considerable  time  must  be  spent 
in  training  the  men  for  their  work;  and  it  was  not  until  the  mid- 
dle of  November  that  the  regiment  was  fit  for  service  among  the 
Indians.  According  to  the  system  that  had  been  pursued,  it  was 
now  time  for  going  into  winter  quarters,  to  remain  completely 
29 


452  GENERAL  GEORGE    A.    CUSTER. 

inactive  until  spring ;  but  that  plan  was  now  changed.  Fighting 
only  in  the  summer,  when  the  Indians  had  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing forage  and  game,  was  practically  giving  them  choice  of  time ; 
but  in  winter,  so  scant  were  their  supplies  that  many  of  their 
ponies  often  died  of  actual  starvation,  and  several  weeks  of  good 
grazing  in  the  spring  were  required  to  restore  them  to  a  suitable 
condition  for  battle,  pursuit  and  flight.  A  maxim  of  the  art  of 
war  directs  the  soldier  to  do  that  which  the  enemy  does  not  ex- 
pect or  desire ;  this  winter  campaign  would  carry  this  out  to  the 
letter,  and  so  careful  preparations  were  made  for  a  descent  upon 
the  Indians  in  the  depth  of  the  season. 

Four  hundred  wagons,  with  a  guard  of  infantry,  and  thirteen 
friendly  Osages  as  scouts,  accompanied  the  Seventh  Cavalry  to 
Camp  Supply,  as  the  new  station  was  named;  the  expedition 
being  under  the  command  of  Gen.  Sully.  Custer  chafed  under 
the  restraint  which  the  extreme  caution  of  the  aged  officer  im- 
posed upon  him,  and  the  approach  of  G-en.  Sheridan  was  hailed 
with  joy.  They  were  to  operate  beyond  the  limit  of  Gen.  Bully's 
district,  and  he  was  therefore  relieved  from  further  command. 
Preparations  were  immediately  made  for  marching  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice  into  the  Indian  country,  and  after  six  days'  wait- 
ing came  a  brief  letter  of  instructions,  necessarily  general  in 
terms.  On  the  evening  of  the  twenty-second  of  November,  or- 
ders were  issued  to  be  in  readiness  to  move  promptly  at  day- 
break the  next  morning.  While  the  snow  fell  fast  without  the 
frail  canvas  shelters,  each  doubtless  found  time  to  pen  a  few  lines 
to  friends,  to  tell  them  of  the  proposed  expedition ;  for  besides 
the  ordinary  uncertainties  of  war,  they  could  not  tell  when  they 
would  again  be  in  communication  with  the  civilized  world. 

All  night  long  the  snow-storm  continued,  so  that  when  reveil- 
le sounded  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  the  ground  was 
covered  with  snow  to  a  depth  of  over  a  foot,  and  the  fall  had  not 
abated.  In  the  very  teeth  of  the  blinding  storm  they  marched, 
and  before  they  had  gone  many  miles  even  the  Indian  guides 
owned  that  they  had  lost  their  way.  Undeterred  by  such  diffi- 
culties, Custer  shaped  his  course  by  a  pocket  compass,  became 
his  own  guide,  and  reached  Wolf  Creek,  where  he  had  intended 
to  camp  that  afternoon.  Next  morning  at  dawn  they  started 
again,  this  time  with  a  clear  sky  overhead ;  and  a  scouting  party 
under  Major  Elliot  found  a  fresh  trail  of  a  war-party,  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  strong ;  the  last  of  the  season,  probably  going 


GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    CUSTER.  453 

home  disgusted  with  the  weather.     The  Seventh  was  in  the  heart 
of  the  Indian  country,  unperceived. 

Already  in  the  valley  of  the  Washita,  they  proceeded  on  this 
trail  by  night.  To  guard  against  surprises,  two  Osages,  on  foot, 
preceded  them  by  three  or  four  hundred  yards ;  then  the  rest  of 
the  Indians,  the  white  scouts,  including  California  Joe,  and  in 
their  midst,  Ouster  himself;  at  a  distance  of  a  quarter  or  a  half 
mile  followed  the  main  body.  Perfect  silence  marked  their 
march ;  and  not  a  match  was  struck,  even  to  light  a  pipe.  The 
Osages  in  front  smelled  fire,  but  it  proved  to  be  only  the  embers 
of  one  kindled  by  Indian  boys  who  had  been  herding  ponies 
during  the  day. 

Custer  now  preceded  the  whole  command,  with  the  two  Osages. 
As  they  approached  the  crest  of  each  hill,  one  of  the  guides  would, 
according  to  the  invariable  Indian  custom,  hasten  forward  and 
peer  cautiously  over  the  hill.  This  happened  several  times, 
when  at  last  the  Osage  placed  his  hand  above  his  eyes,  as  if  look- 
ing intently  at  some  object,  and  then  crept  stealthily  Back  to  the 
leader. 

"  What  is  it?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 

"  Heaps  Injuns  down  there,"  was  the  reply,  as  the  guide  point- 
ed to  the  valley  just  beyond  the  hill. 

Crouching  low,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  in  the  moonlight  against 
the  horizon,  Custer  and  the  Indian  crept  to  the  crest  of  the  hill, 
whence  the  soldier  could  see  a  large  body  of  some  kind  of  ani- 
mals at  a  distance  which  he  estimated  at  half  a  mile  ;  but  he 
could  not  tell  but  that  it  was  a  herd  of  buffalo.  Turning  to  the 
guide,  he  asked : 

"Why  do  you  think  they  are  Indians?" 

"  Me  hear  dog  bark." 

In  a  moment,  as  if  to  confirm  his  words,  a  dog  was  heard  bark- 
ing in  the  heavy  timber  to  the  right  of  the  group,  and  the  tinkle 
of  a  bell  showed  that  their  ponies  were  near  by.  Another  sound, 
the  cry  of  an  infant,  awakened  the  soldier's  regret  that  he  was 
forced  by  the  atrocity  of  his  enemy's  murders  and  depredations 
to  engage  in  a  war  in  which  the  women  and  children  could  not 
be  protected. 

"  The  "bravest  are  the  tenderest, 
The  loving  are  the  daring." 

Halting  here,  all  necessary  arrangements  were  made  for  the 
attack.  Few  attempted  to  sleep,  so  bitterly  cold  was  the  night, 


454  GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    CUSTER. 

so  comfortless  their  fireless,  shelterless  condition.  From  group 
to  group,  crouching  or  lying  upon  the  frozen  snow,  went  Ouster. 

"Fight!"  said  California  Joe,  as  the  leader  approached  the 
scouts;  "I  haven't  nary  doubt  concernm'  that  part  of  the  busi- 
ness; what  I've  been  tryin'  to  git  through  my  top-knot  all 
night  is  whether  we'll  run  against  more'n  we  bargain  for." 

"  Then  you  don't  think  that  the  Indians  will  run  away,  Joe?  " 

"Bun  away  ?  How  in  creation  kin  Injuns  or  anybody  else  run 
away  when  we'll  have  them  clean  surrounded  by  daylight?" 

"  Well,  suppose  then  that  we  succeed  in  surrounding  the  vil- 
lage, do  you  think  we  can  hold  our  own  against  the  Indians?" 

"  That's  the  very  p'int  that's  been  botherin'  me  ever  sence  we 
planted  ourselves  down  here,  and  the  only  conclusion  I  kin  come 
to  is  that  it's  purty  apt  to  be  one  thing  or  t'other  •  if  we  jump 
these  Injuns  at  daylight,  we're  either  goin'  to  make  a  spoon  or 
spile  a  horn,  and  that's  my  candid  judgment,  sure.  One  thing's 
sartin;  ef  them  Injuns  don't  hyar  anything  of  us  till  we  open  on 
'em  at  daylight,  they'll  be  the  most  powerful  'stonished  red-skins 
that's  been  in  these  parts  lately — they  will,  sure.  An'  ef  we  git 
the  bulge  on  'em  and  keep  a  puttin'  it  to  'em  pretty  lively  like, 
we'll  sweep  the  platter — thar  won't  be  nary  a  trick  left  for  'em. 
As  the  deal  stands  now,  we  hold  the  keards  and  are  holdin'  over 
'em  ;  they've  got  to  straddle  our  blind  or  throw  up  their  hands. 
Howsomever,  there's  a  mighty  sight  in  the  draw." 

The  first  faint  streaks  of  light  appeared  in  the  east,  and  all  was 
in  readiness  for  the  advance.  In  spite  of  the  freezing  cold,  over- 
coats were  removed,  that  the  men  might  be  free  in  their  move- 
ments. Two  detachments  were  sent,  one  each  way  round,  to  attack 
the  village  from  the  other  side,  the  signal  being  the  first  notes 
of  "  G-arry  Owen."  Communication  with  the  two  divisions  that 
had  gone  to  the  other  side  of  the  village  was  impossible,  and  the 
commander  must  guess  at  their  readiness.  So  still  was  the  vil- 
lage as  they  approached,  that  he  feared  a  repetition  of  Hancock's 
experience ;  but  a  single  rifle  shot,  that  rang  sharp  and  clear  from 
the  further  side  of  the  town,  and  the  rollicking  notes  of  the  air 
selected  as  the  signal,  aroused  the  whole  village  in  an  instant. 
From  all  sides  the  soldiers  dashed,  shouting,  into  the  town ;  the 
Indians  realized  the  situation  at  once,  and  arming  in  a  moment's 
time,  sought  the  shelter  of  the  nearest  trees  and  the  neighboring 
stream,  whence  they  poured  shot  upon  the  troops.  In  answer 
to  the  exultant  cheers  of  the  soldiers  came  the  wild  war-whoop 


GENERAL  GEORGE   A.   OUSTER. 


455 


456  GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 

of  the  savages;  but  in  a  few  moments  the  village  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  troops. 

Before  the  victory  could  be  called  complete,  however,  the  In- 
dians must  be  driven  off.  This  wasa-work  of  more  difficulty,  but 
slowly  and  steadily  they  were  driven  from  behind  the  trees.  Post- 
ing themselves  in  the  ravines,  they  fired  from  an  almost  perfect 
shelter,  until  the  sharp-shooters  that  Ouster  had  recently  trained 
picked  them  off  as  they  exposed  themselves  to  get  a  shot.  In- 
side the  lodges  were  the  Indian  women,  who  now  gave  vent  to 
their  despair  by  singing  the  death-song;  and  the  wild,  unmusical 
lament  added  to  the  din.  A  Mexican  interpreter,  Romero,  or 
"  Romeo."  was  sent  to  reassure  them  with  the  promise  that  they 
would  be  unharmed  and  kindly  treated ;  but  it  was  difficult  to 
obtain  a  hearing  from  the  terrified  creatures. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  fight  was  still  raging.  California  Joe  con- 
cluded to  start  out  on  his  own  account,  and  after  moving  about 
for  sometime  in  what  Gen.  Ouster  calls  a  promiscuous  and  in- 
dependent manner,  obtained  permission  to  collect  and  drive  in  a 
large  herd  of  ponies  that  was  seen  near  by.  In  the  meantime  a 
number  of  Indians  had  been  noticed,  collected  on  a  knoll  about 
a  mile  away,  and  as  Joe  came  into  camp  with  two  squaw  prison- 
ers assisting  him  with  his  drove  of  three  hundred  ponies,  Ouster 
saw  that  the  number  of  the  enemy  outside  the  lines  had  grown 
to  nearly  a  hundred.  All  were  mounted  warriors,  fully  armed, 
and  their  force  was  constantly  increasing.  At  first,  he  had 
thought  that  a  few  might  have  escaped  from  the  village,  but  this 
army  could  not  have  done  so,  nor  would  they  have  been  so  com- 
pletely equipped.  A  squaw,  being  questioned,  gave  the  aston- 
ishing and  by  no  means  pleasing  information  that  this  was  but 
one  of  a  group  of  villages ;  that  besides  this  of  the  Cheyennes, 
there  was  another  of  the  same  tribe,  and  those  of  the  Arapahoes, 
Kiowas,  Comanches  and  Apaches  clustered  in  the  timbered  val- 
ley, the  farthest  being  less  than  ten  miles  off. 

There  was  no  doubt  of  an  attack  from  a  greatly  superior  force 
upon  the  troops,  exhausted  by  their  long  fight ;  and  no  time  was 
lost  in  preparing  to  repel  it.  A  fresh  supply  of  ammunition  was 
issued,  and  the  fight  soon  began  at  all  points  of  the  circle  which 
now  formed  the  line  of  battle,  and  of  which  the  village  was  the 
center.  The  Indians  fought  with  an  excessive  caution, rare,  when 
numerical  superiority  was  so  great  as  at  this  time,  but  the  burn- 
ing of  the  village  seemed  to  arouse  them  to  new  fury.  The  tim- 


GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 


457 


ber  and  the  configuration  of  the  ground,  however,  enabled  Ouster 
to  use  his  men  to  the  better  advantage,  and  he  finally  judged  that 
offensive  measures  might  be  adopted.  Step  by  step  the  Indians 
were  driven  from  the  field,  every  inch  of  ground  contested  •  and 
it  was  not  until  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  that  they  were 
forced  to  yield. 

It  was  difficult  to  know  how  to  dispose  of  the  spoils  of  war ; 
the  village,  with  all  that  was  in  it,  had  been  burned,  but  more 
than  sixty  squaws  and  children  were  their  prisoners,  and  nearly 


THE  MESSENGER   OF   DEFEAT. 

nine  hundred  ponies  were  in  their  possession.  The  latter  were 
too  tempting  to  marauding  parties,  were  needed  by  the  Indians, 
but  useless  to  the  troops  ;  to  keep  or  abandon  them  was  equally 
dangerous,  so  all  were  shot,  except  those  necessary  for  the  pris- 
oners. When  Romeo  announced  to  the  squaws  that  they  would 
be  kindly  treated  during  the  march,  they  gathered  around  the 
u  big  chief,"  as  the  Indians  style  a  commanding  officer,  and 
obliged  him  to  go  through  much  handshaking.  One  squaw  told 
him  that  her  people  had  returned  the  night  before  with  white 
scalps  and  plunder;  and  celebrated  their  success  by  getting 
drunk.  She  also  insisted  upon  his  marrying  a  young  girl  of  the 


458  GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    OUSTER. 

tribe,  and  performed  the  whole  Indian  ceremony  before  the  in- 
terpreter could  explain  to  Ouster  what  she  was  doing. 

It  was  necessary  to  frighten  the  warriors  in  the  other  villages, 
to  deter  them  from  making  an  attack  •  then,  with  band  playing, 
and  colors  flying,  he  marched  straight  down  the  river  towards 
the  threatening  parties  assembled  at  various  points.  The  move- 
ment had  the  desired  effect,  for  the  Indians  turned  and  fled  in 
confusion  ;  the  lesson  of  the  attack  on  the  Cheyenne  village  need- 
ed no  immediate  repetition.  Messengers  had  carried  the  doleful 
news  in  every  direction. 

California  Joe  and  another  scout  were  sent  with  a  despatch  to 
G-en.  Sheridan,  giving  report  of  the  battle ;  and  returned  safely  to 
the  regiment  before  it  reached  Camp  Supply.  The  return  despatch 
repaid  the  Seventh  for  the  hardships  of  the  march,  and  when  the 
same  officer  further  honored  them  by  a  review,  a  great  conde- 
scension in  military  etiquette,  since  Sheridan  was  a  major-gen- 
•eral,  and  this  but  a  single  regiment,  their  proud  pleasure  knew  no 
bounds. 

One  hundred  and  three  warriors  had  been  killed,  a'nd  the 
amount  of  plunder  that  fell  into  their  hands  seems  almost  incred- 
ible, until  we  reflect  that  this  was  the  preparation  made  for  win- 
ter. The  loss  of  the  regiment  had  not  been  small,  two  officers 
and  nineteen  men  being  killed.  Among  the  wounded  was  Col. 
T.  W.  Custer,  the  general's  brother,  who  had  accompanied  him 
on  his  ride  to  Fort  Harker,  and  of  whom  we  shall  hear  again. 

But  this  was  only  the  beginning  of  the  campaign,  and  five  days 
after  the  review  mentioned,  the  regiment  again  set  out  for  the 
Washita,  accompanied  by  G-en.  Sheridan  and  his  staff,  and  the 
Nineteenth  Kansas  Volunteer  Cavalry,  raised  especially  for  In- 
dian hostilities;  the  entire  force  numbering  about  fifteen  hun- 
dred men.  Thirty  days'  rations  were  provided,  and  the  force 
presented  a  formidable  array. 

u  I'd  just  like  to  seethe  streaked  countenances  of  Satanta,  Med- 
icine Arrow,  Lone  Wolf,  and  a  few  others  of  'em,  when  they 
ketch  the  fust  glimpse  of  the  outfit.  They'll  think  we're  comin' 
to  spend  an  evenin'  with  'em  sure,  and  hev  brought  our  knittin' 
with  us.  One  look'll  satisfy  'em,  and  thar'll  be  some  of  the  durnd- 
est  kickin'  out  over  these  plains  that  ever  war  heer'n  tell  of.  One 
good  thing,  it's  goin'  to  come  as  nigh  killin'  of  'em  to  start  'em 
out  at  this  time  of  year  as  ef  we  hed  an  out  and  out  scrummage 
With  'em.  The  way  I  looks  at  it  they  hev  just  this  ch'ice  :  them 


GENERAL   GEORGE   A.   CUSTER.  459 

as  don't  like  bein'  shot  to  death  kin  take  ther  chances  at  freez- 
in/  " 

The  regiment  reached  the  battle  ground  without  adventure,  and 
found  that  they  had  plunged  into  a  hornet's  nest  when  they  had 
attacked  the  Cheyennes.  The  whole  forest,  for  twelve  miles,  was 
a  line  of  Indian  villages,  six  hundred  lodges  having  been  within 
five  miles  of  the  battle  ;  now  deserted,  their  inhabitants  having 
fled  in  the  utmost  confusion,  leaving  everything  behind. 

As  they  continued  the  march  down  the  Washita  to  Fort  Cobb, 
a  despatch,  was  brought  by  Kiowa  Indians,  under  Satanta  and 
Lone  Wolf,  stating  that  all  the  tribes  for  twenty  miles  from  the 
station  were  friendly.  Custer  mistrusted  the  intentions  of  a 
large  party  that  came  armed  and  painted  for  war,  but  was  obli- 
ged to  follow  orders.  The  chiefs  agreed  to  ride  with  him  to  Fort 
Cobb,  assuring  him  that  their  villages  would  encamp  near  by,  to 
prove  that  they  held  no  communication  with  the  hostile  tribes. 
As  chief  after  chief,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  left  the  column 
the  next  day,  Custer  felt  his  suspicions  confirmed.  He  was  now 
sure  that  the  lodges  were  to  be  moved  away  from,  instead  of  to- 
ward Fort  Cobb,  and  resolved  to  prevent  it.  When  all  the  min- 
or chiefs  had  gone,  Satanta  and  Lone  Wolf  were  seized  as  prison- 
ers and  hostages ;  a  little  later,  by  G-en.  Sheridan's  orders,  a  mes- 
sage was  sent  to  the  Kiowas  that  if  their  bands  were  not  in  camp 
at  sunset  of  the  next  day,  the  two  chiefs  would  be  hanged  at  that 
hour.  The  tribe  that  had  moved  at  such  an  imperceptible  rate 
became  alarmed,  and  were  under  the  guns  of  Fort  Cobb  long  be- 
fore the- designated  time. 

The  Arapahoes  remained  to  be  dealt  with,  but  Custer,  with 
forty  men,  went  to  their  village  and  induced  them  to  settle  peace- 
fully upon  their  reservation.  Such  was  the  estimation  in  which 
this  journey  was  held  than  one  of  the  officers  of  his  command,  in 
bidding  him  good-bye,  contrived  to  slip  into  his  hand  a  small 
pocket  derringer,  loaded;  with  the  remark: 

"  You  had  better  take  it,  General ;  it  may  prove  useful  to  you." 

It  was  intended,  in  case  of  his  being  captured  and  deprived  of 
his  more  formidable  weapons,  to  enable  him  to  escape  torture  by 
becoming  his  own  executioner.  He  returned  in  safety,  however, 
having  accomplished  his  purpose,  and  was  ready,  early  in  March, 
1869,  to  go  in  search  of  the  Cheyennes  who  had  not  been  in  the 
village  on  the  Washita. 

No  difficulty  was  experienced  in  finding  the  trail  of  the  band, 


460  GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 

and  as  the  Indians,  when  not  pursued,  move  with  the  laziest 
sort  of  deliberation,  the  cavalry  overtook  them,  although  they 
had  had  a  start  of  a  month.  There  were  nearly  three  hundred 
lodges  in  the  village  and  near  it,  sheltering  the  whole  Cheyenne 
tribe;  but  the  safety  of  two  white  women,  who  were  known  to  be 
held  captives  in  their  power,  prevented  Ouster  from  making  an 
attack.  Four  chiefs,  Big-Head,  Dull  Knife,  and  two  others  were 
captured  and  offered  in  exchange ;  but  the  Indians  would  make 
no  definite  answer.  Finally  Ouster  sent  one  as  messenger  to  say 
that  if  by  sunset  the  next  day  the  women  were  not  delivered  up 
to  him,  he  would  hang  his  captives  to  a  certain  tree  which  he 
designated.  The  ropes  were  ready,  and  the  limb  selected  when 
the  Cheyenncs  brought  in  the  women,  whom  they  did  not  think 
of  equal  importance  with  chiefs  as  hostages. 

Ouster  had  not  offered  an  unconditional  exchange  of  prisoners ; 
the  Cheyennes  must  return  to  their  reservation.  Seeing  that  no 
other  terms  could  be  obtained,  and  knowing  too  well  what  the 
"Big  Yellow  Chief"  could  do,  they  promised  to  comply  with  his 
demands  as  soon  as  their  ponies  were  in  condition  for  marching, 
and  never  again  to  go  upon  the  war-path.  For  years  after  Ouster's 
death  this  promise  was  still  unbroken ;  but  until  the  United  States 
government  keeps  faith  with  the  Indians  we  cannot  expect  peace. 
The  campaign  in  the  Indian  Territory  was  now  at  an  end,  and  the 
summer  could  be  spent  in  rest.  Encamped  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Fort  Hay,  Ouster's  life  was  now  a  perfect  round  of  pleasur- 
able excitement.  Tourists  from  the  east  or  from  Europe  often 
came  to  see  the  successful  Indian  fighter,  and  bunting  excursions 
took  place  nearly  every  week.  The  Indians  were  really  and 
truly  at  peace,  cowed  by  his  successes  ;  the  campaign  had  made 
them  thoroughly  respect  him. 

The  succeeding  winter  was  spent  at  Leavenworth,  where  he 
began  to  write  his  "War  Memoirs/'  and  the  spring  and  summer  of 
1870  were  passed  like  the  same  seasons  of  the  previous  year. 
The  removal  of  his  regiment  that  fall  to  the  east  of  the  Missis- 
sippi gave  a  quieter  and  less  pleasant  life,  the  monotony  of  which 
was  broken  only  once. 

When,  in  1872,  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis  visited  the  United 
States,  it  was  desired  to  show  him  a  buffalo  hunt,  and  Ouster  was 
chosen  to  escort  him  to  the  plains.  The  Russian  was  delighted 
with  his  hunt  and  with  Ouster,  whom  he  saw  for  the  first  time  in 
the  picturesque  buck-skin  hunting-shirt  which  the  general  always 


GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 


461 


wore  on  the  plains;  and  insisted  that  he  must  accompany  the 
party  on  the  tour  through  the  west. 

But,  however  pleasant  this  might  be,  his  next  orders  delighted 
Ouster  still  more.  In  March,  1873,  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  or- 
dered to  Dakota,  and  all  the  officers,  scattered  about  among  dif- 


A  BUFFALO  HUNT. 


ferent  posts,  rejoiced  at  the  news.  It  meant  business,  calling 
them  out  in  a  body,  and  when  they  met  at  Memphis,  all  were  glad 
to  see  each  other  and  anxious  for  work. 

The  railroad  is  the  great  conqueror  of  the  Indian.     "  No  one 


462  GENERAL   GEORGE   A.   OUSTER. 

measure,"  says  Ouster  himself,  "  so  quickly  and  effectually  frees 
a  country  from  the  horrors  and  devastations  of  Indian  wars  and 
Indian  depredations  as  the  building  and  successful  operation  of  a 
railroad  through  the  region  overrun.  The  Northern  Pacific  was 
to  be  built,  and  the  government  had  assigned  troops  to  protect 
it  from  the  Sioux.  On  this  expedition,  known  as  the  Yellowstone, 
Ouster's  daily  practice  was  to  precede  the  main  command  escort- 
ing the  surveyors  and  engineers,  and  the  heavily  laden  wagons, 
and  mark  out  the  best  road,  thus  avoiding  the  serious  delays  that 
had  occurred  before  the  adoption  of  this  plan. 

On  the  morning  of  August  4th,  the  Arickaree  scout  and  guide, 
Bloody  Knife,  discovered  fresh  signs  of  Indians;  nineteen  had 
been  prowling  around  the  camp  on  the  previous  night,  and  had 
gone  away,  traveling  in  the  same  direction  in  which  the  whites 
were  marching.  This,  however,  created  no  alarm,  as  the  pioneer 
party  numbered  ninety,  and  they  felt  sure  that  the  Indians  would 
not  attack  so  great  a  force. 

Halting  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  high  bluffs  bordering  the  Yellow- 
stone valley,  the  horses  were  watered,  and  then  picketed  out  to 
graze;  half  a  dozen  pickets  were  posted  on  the  open  plain  be- 
yond, and  the  remainder  of  the  party  prepared  for  solid  comfort. 
On  the  grass  beneath  a  wide-spreading  cottonwood  lay  Gren.  Ous- 
ter, with  his  saddle  and  buckskin  coat  for  a  pillow;  boots  off, 
cravat  untied,  collar  open,  he  was  fully  prepared  to  enjoy  his 
out-door  nap.  Beside  him  lay  his  brother,  Col.  Ouster,  and  not 
far  off  were  the  other  three  officers,  Moylan,  Calhoun  and  Yar- 
num,  similarly  prepared  for  the  same  pleasure.  Around  them  lay 
the  men,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  pickets  were  the  only  mem- 
bers  of  the  party  not  asleep.  Suddenly  came  the  cry  of  " In- 
dians!" and  the  sharp  crack  of  the  sentries'  rifles  followed  the 
cry.  Officers  and  men  sprang  to  their  feet,  catching  up  the  rifles, 
which,  as  a  matter  of  habit,  had  been  placed  within  easy  reach. 

"Hun  to  your  horses,  men;  run  to  your  horses  I"  shouted  the 
general,  as  he  saw  that  the  Indians  intended  to  stampede  the  an- 
imals and  then  attack  the  soldiers. 

Springing  to  their  saddles,  they  rode  headlong  forward  to 
where  half  a  dozen  Sioux  warriors  were  galloping  up  and  down 
before  them,  evidently  to  decoy  them  onward  to  a  point  where  a 
large  body  lay  in  ambush.  Leaving  Moylan  with  the  main  force 
as  a  reserve,  Gen.  Ouster,  with  his  brother,  Calhoun  and  twenty 
troopers,  rode  forward  after  the  retreating  Sioux.  There  was 


GENERAL    GEORGE    A.    OUSTER.  463 

no  hope  of  overtaking  them,  such  was  the  fleetness  of  their  po- 
nies, but  they  did  not  choose  to  go  at  full  speed.  Ouster  rode 
forward,  accompanied  only  by  an  orderly,  and  made  the  sign  for 
a  parley,  but  the  Indians  would  not  respond.  His  orderly  was 
then  sent  back  to  warn  Col.  Ouster  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  upon 
the  heavy  bushes  to  the  left;  the  message  was  delivered,  and  the 
man  on  his  way  back  to  the  general,  when  the  savages  in  front 
advanced  as  if  to  attack,  and  at  the  same  moment  Ouster  saw 
three  or  four  hundred  Sioux  warriors  bursting  from  the  suspect- 
ed bushes.  Dashing  from  the  timber  at  full  speed,  yelling  and 
whooping  as  only  Indians  can,  they  yet  moved  forward  in  as  per- 
fect order  as  the  best  drilled  cavalry. 

"Wheeling  his  horse  suddenly  around,  and  driving  his  spurs  in- 
to its  side,  Ouster  rode  for  his  life  towards  his  brother's  party ; 
shouting :  "  Dismount  your  men,  dismount  your  men !"  with  al- 
most every  bound  of  his  horse.  It  was  a  race  on  as  it  were  two 
sides  of  a  triangle,  to  see  which  should  reach  the  troops  first, 
— Ouster  or  the  mounted  Indians.  The  order  was  unheard,  but 
fortunately  Col.  Ouster  had  before  this  contended  against  a  sud- 
den and  unforeseen  onslaught  of  savages,  and  gave  the  order 
which  his  brother  would  have  given.  Nearer  and  nearer  he  drew 
to  the  little  group  of  dismounted  cavalrymen,  as,  kneeling  in  the 
grass,  with  finger  on  trigger,  they  awaited  the  enemy  approach- 
ing with  equal  rapidity.  It  seemed  but  a  moment  more,  and  the 
Sioux,  riding  as  if  unconscious  of  their  presence,  would  have 
trampled  the  kneeling  troopers  down  to  the  earth. 

"  Don't  fire,  men,  until  I  give  the  word,  and  when  you  do  fire, 
aim  low/'  was  the  direction  which  the  young  officer  gave,  as  he 
sat  on  his  horse,  calmly  awaiting  the  onset;  then: 
"Now,  men,  let  them  have  it." 

And  before  the  volley  of  well-aimed  snots,  followed  quickly  by 
another,  the  warriors  reeled  in  their  saddles  and  their  ponies  fell 
dead.  They  lost  confidence  in  their  power  to  trample  down  the 
little  body;  they  faltered;  they  fled  in  the  wildest  confusion.  A 
third  shower  of  balls  hastened  their  flight,  and  the  cheer  of  the 
cavalrymen  announced  their  victory  and  the  arrival  of  Moylan 
and  the  main  force  at  the  same  time. 

Of  course,  it  was  but  a  temporary  retreat;  the  Indians  would 
soon  return  to  the  attack,  and  preparations  must  be  made  to  re- 
pulse them  the  second  time.  A  natural  terrace  was  to  be  used  as 
a  breastwork,  and  though  the  Indians  made  every  attempt  to  dis.- 


464 


GENERAL  GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 


GENERAL    GEORGE   A.    CUSTER.  465 

lodge  them  and  force  them  to  the  open  plateau,  the  men  kept 
their  position.  Finding  their  plans  foiled,  they  tried  another, 
which  was  detected  by  the  quick  eyes  of  Bloody  Knife.  Crawl- 
ing through  the  grass,  Ouster  thought  they  could  hardly  mean  to 
attack  on  foot,  and  was  only  enlightened  as  to  their  intention 
when  small  columns  of  smoke  were  seen  shooting  up  all  along 
the  front. 

"  They  are  setting  fire  to  the  long  grass,  and  intend  to  burn  us 
out,"  were  the  ominous  words  of  Bloody  Knife,  his  face  clouded 
with  anxiety.  Then,  while  his  expression  brightened,  and  a 
scornful  smile  parted  his  lips : 

"  The  Great  Spirit  will  not  help  our  enemies.  See,  the  grass 
refuses  to  burn." 

A  month  later  the  dry  grass  would  have  burned  like  tinder, 
but  now  it  was  too  green,  and  the  Indians  were  obliged  to  find 
another  mode  of  attack.  A  pathway  in  the  rear  of  the  troops 
would  have  led  the  redskins  along  the  water's  edge,  where  the 
high  bank  would  screen  them  from  observation ;  so  that  the 
horses,  concealed  in  the  grove  near  the  river,  might  have  been 
stampeded.  The  design  was  fortunately  discovered,  and  the  In- 
dians soon  afterward  retreated.  This  occasioned  considerable 
surprise  at  first,  but  was  explained  when  an  immense  cloud  of 
dust  was  seen  at  a  distance,  rapidly  approaching.  Not  waiting 
to  welcome  their  comrades,  the  cavalrymen,  as  soon  as  they  were 
certain  that  relief  was  at  hand,  were  in  their  saddles  in  a  moment 
and  dashing  after  the  enemy.  A  hot  pursuit  failed  in  its  object ; 
the  fleet  and  hardy  ponies  outran  the  heavy  cavalry  horses,  and 
they  returned  to  camp  under  the  cottonwood  trees  where  they 
had  rested  in  the  morning. 

This  was  the  first  intimation  to  the  whites  that  the  Sioux  were 
on  the  war  path,  and  although  none  of  the  men  in  the  fight  were 
killed,  two  unarmed  old  men,  the  veterinary  surgeon  and  the  sut- 
ler of  the  Seventh,  were  found  dead;  they  had  strayed  from  the 
main  body  in  search  of  natural  curiosities,  as  they  were  in  the 
habit  of  doing,  and  had  been  wantonly  murdered  by  some  wan- 
dering Sioux. 

Nothing  more  was  seen  of  war  parties  during  the  remainder 
of  the  time  that  they  were  on  this  expedition,  although  Indians 
were  seen  hovering  near  for  several  days;  until  an  attack  by  the 
Sioux  under  Sitting  Bull,  at  nearly  the  end  of  their  journey, 
which  was  repulsed  without  loss.  Ordered  now  to  Fort  Abraham 


466  GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    CUSTER. 

Lincoln,  Ouster  passed  some  time  in  quiet,  until  the  Black  Hills 
expedition  in  1874  again  called  him  into  the  field. 

This  unexplored  region,  that  derived  its  name  from  the  dark 
pines  that  tossed  on  the  hillsides  in  the  wind  like  the  plumes  on 
a  hearse,  had  been  ceded  to  the  Sioux  by  solemn  treaty  in  1868 ; 
but  some  Indians  came  to  a  trading  post  with  gold  dust  and  nug- 
gets, which  they  admitted  had  been  found  there,  and  the  accursed 
thirst  for  gold  drew  the  eyes  of  all  men  thither.  The  govern- 
ment decided  to  send  a  strong  detachment  to  explore  the  hills 
and  ascertain  if  gold  were  really  to  be  found  there,  and  Ouster, 
with  a  force  of  over  twelve  hundred  men,  was  detailed  for  the 
duty. 

Two  weeks  after  they  set  out,  they  entered  the  Sioux  reserva- 
tion, two  hundred  and  twenty-seven  miles  from  Fort  Lincoln. 
Through  a  country  more  beautiful  than  any  they  had  ever  seen, 
they  marched,  unmolested  by  the  Indians,  who,  busily  watching 
Ouster,  had  no  time  for  the  war  which  they  had  intended  to  carry 
on  in  small  parties. 

Ouster's  report  represents  the  country  as  a  perfect  garden,  but 
this  was  doubted  by  those  who  had  seen  it  in  a  less  favorable 
season;  the  geologists,  too,  who  had  accompanied  him,  made  un- 
satisfactory reports.  But  the  tide  was  not  to  be  stayed.  Adven- 
turers by  hundreds  flocked  into  the  country,  regardless  of  pro- 
hibition. The  mischief  had  been  done  ;  Ouster's  expedition  had 
shown  the  Sioux  that  the  United  States  did  not  intend  to  keep 
the  treaty  any  longer  than  that  treaty  was  to  the  Government's 
advantage,  and  the  clouds  began  to  gather  fast  in  the  beautiful 
country  that  had  seemed  to  him  an  earthly  paradise. 

In  the  next  year,  while  Ouster  and  his  command  were  resting 
peacefully  at  Fort  Lincoln,  the  identity  of  the  Sioux  who  had 
murdered  the  sutler  and  the  veterinary  surgeon  on  the  Yellow- 
stone expedition  was  proven  in  a  singular  manner.  The  mur- 
derer boasted  of  his  crime  at  the  trading-post  where  he  was 
drawing  rations  and  ammunition.  The  news  quickly  reached 
Ouster,  who  sent  out  a  detachment  of  a  hundred  men  to  march  to 
the  agency.  Sealed  orders,  opened  twenty  miles  beyond  Fort 
Eice,  directed  them  to  capture  and  bring  in  the  murderer,  Eain- 
in-the-Face. 

As  the  troops  neared  the  agency  it  was  found  necessary  to 
observe  the  greatest  care,  to  prevent  the  Indians,  gathered  to 
clraw  rations,  from  finding  out  the  object  of  their  expedition, 


GENERAL    GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 


467 


Captain  Yates,  in  command  of  the  force,  succeeded  in  blinding 
the  Sioux  as  to  his  real  purpose,  and  Eain-in-the-Face  was 
thrown  completely  off  his  guard.  On  a  certain  day,  Col.  Custer 
was  sent,  with  five  men,  to  go  to  the  store  and  capture  the  mur- 
derer, should  he  put  in  an  appearance.  It  must  be  remembered 
that,  like  many  officers  of  the  Seventh,  Col.  Custer' s  highest 
rank  was  only  a  brevet,  he  being  really  junior  to  Yates.  The 
cold  weather  caused  the  Indians  to  keep  their  blankets  drawn 
over  their  heads,  but  at  last  one  of  them  loosened  his,  thus  throw- 
ing oif  the  disguise.  It  was  Rain-in-the-Face.  Col.  Custer  threw 


CAPTURE    OF   RAIN-IN-THE-FACE. 

his  arms  around  him  and  seized  the  rifle  which  the  Indian  attempt- 
ed to  grasp.  Taken  completely  by  surprise,  he  was  quickly  secu- 
red ;  his  people  were  greatly  excited,  and  numerous  speeches 
were  made  by  the  warriors  in  the  high,  monotonous  voice  they 
use.  Captain  Yates  immediately  prepared  to  repel  an  attack, 
and  found  that  such  care  was  not  unnecessary,  for  five  hundred 
Indians  gathered  around  him,  demanding  the  release  of  the 
prisoner. 

Eain-in-the-Face  was  taken  to  Fort  Lincoln,  and  kept  in  cap- 
tivity several  months,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  that  his  tribe 
30 


468  GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  OUSTER. 

made  to  secure  his  freedom.  He  finally  made  his  escape,  and 
went  at  once  to  the  hostile  camp.  From  that  point  he  sent  word 
that  he  had  joined  Sitting  Bull  and  was  waiting  to  revenge  him- 
self on  the  Big  Yellow  Chief  for  his  imprisonment. 

Rain-in-the-Face  was  a  warrior  of  whom  his  trihe  were  parti- 
cularly proud,  on  account  of  his  powers  of  endurance.  At  the 
sun-dance,  where  a  gash  is  cut  under  some  of  the  sinews  of  the 
back,  immediately  under  the  shoulder  blades,  and  the  Indian 
suspended  by  a  buffalo  thong  passed  through  this  until  his  own 
weight  causes  him  to  fall,  this  young  man  had  stood  the  test 
most  successfully,  hanging  in  this  way,  exposed  to  the  burning 
summer  sun,  for  four  hours. 

Early  in  1876  it  was  determined  to  make  war  upon  the  hostiles, 
and,  probably  that  the  Indians  might  have  a  chance  of  life  and 
victory,  ample  supplies  of  arms  and  ammunition  were  distribu- 
ted to  them  through  the  agencies.  Early  in  March,  a  force  was 
sent  under  the  command  of  G-en.  Reynolds,  accompanied  by  G-en. 
Crook,  the  department  commander,  in  person,  towards  the  Pow- 
der River.  Here  Crazy  Horse's  village  was  attacked,  but  the 
victory  was  not  as  complete  as  it  should  have  been  made;  and 
Crazy  Horse  was  only  exasperated  by  the  destruction  of  his  pro- 
perty, while  all  his  men  and  weapons  and  nearly  all  his  ponies 
remained  to  him,  leaving  him  as  strong  as  ever  for  fighting  op- 
erations. 

G-en.  Terry  was  to  send  out,  as  soon  as  the  late  spring  of  the 
far  north  would  allow,  a  force  to  cooperate  with  Gen. Crook's. 
Custer  was  to  be  assigned  to  the  command  of  this  column,  ac- 
cording to  the  plans  of  G-ens.  Sherman  and  Sheridan,  the  force 
consisting  mainly  of  his  regiment,  and  being  organized  at  his 
post.  The  reason  for  this  was  obviously  Custer's  success  as  an 
Indian  fighter ;  he  had  never  yet  met  with  disaster  while  in  com- 
mand of  an  important  expedition.  But  while  he  was  hard  at 
work  preparing  for  this  journey  to  the  land  of  the  Sioux,  he  was 
summoned  to  Washington  as  a  witness  as  to  some  alleged  abuses 
in  the  War  Department.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  was 
needed  in  Dakota,  that  he  knew  little,  if  anything,  about  the 
matter  that  was  being  investigated,  he  was  obliged  to  go  to  the 
capital,  where  he  was  kept  a  month.  Unwilling  to  go,  since  he 
was  needed  at  the  west,  unwilling  to  testify,  since  he  could  give 
only  hearsay  evidence  and  opinion,  Gren.  Grant,  then  President, 
persisted  in  believing  that  he  was  anxious  to  make  such  state- 


GENERAL    GEORGE   A.    OUSTER.  469 

ments  as  he  could,  and  took  his  presence  in  Washington  as  a  per- 
sonal injury  and  insult  offered  to  himself,  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  army. 

Custer  heard  that  Grant  was  bitterly  incensed  against  him,  and 
knowing  it  was  without  just  cause,  endeavored  to  see  him,  hop- 
ing by  a  frank  statement  of  the  truth  to  disabuse  his  mind  of 
that  impression.  Three  times  he  called  at  the  White  House,  but 
was  compelled  to  wait  in  the  ante-room  for  hours  without  gain- 
ing admittance,  to  the  President.  Nor  did  a  letter  to  Gen.  Grant 
produce  the  desired  effect. 

Calling  upon  Gen.  Sherman,  Custer  found  that  he  was  in  New 
York,  and  left  Washington  on  the  evening  train.  The  next  day, 
Gen.  Sheridan  received  a  telegram  from  Gen.  Sherman,  direct- 
ing him  to  intercept  Custer  at  Chicago  or  St.  Paul,  and  order  him 
to  halt  for  further  orders;  that  he  was  not  justified  in  leaving 
without  seeing  the  President  or  the  General  of  the  Army;  that 
the  expedition  from  Fort  Lincoln  should  proceed  without  him. 

Telegrams  to  Gen.  Sherman  from  Custer  failed  to  disclose  the 
reason  for  this ;  could  a  soldier  tell  his  subordinate  that  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  of  the  army  had  a  petty  spite  against  him,  and 
was  wreaking  it  in  this  way?  The  poor  favor  of  being  at  Fort 
Lincoln  instead  of  Chicago  was  granted,  and  at  last,  after  an  car- 
nest  and  touching  appeal,  Custer  was  allowed  to  accompany,  as 
a  subordinate,  the  regiment  of  which  he  was  senior  officer  on 
duty. 

The  two  columns  marched  towards  each  other,  and  Gen.  Crook's 
came  within  striking  distance  of  Sitting  Bull,  but  here  again  val- 
uable time  was  lost.  As  they  were  in  camp,  they  were  attacked 
by  the  Sioux,  and  Crook  decidedly  out-generaled  by  Sitting  Bull, 
a  born  soldier.  Driven  back  with  serious  lose,  Crook  returned 
to  his  permanent  camp, 

"  Meantime  Gens.  Terry  and  Gibbon,  one  from  Fort  Lincoln,  the 
other  from  Fort  Ellis,  had  effected  a  junction  of  their  forces  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Tongue  Eiver,  and  steps  were  immediately  taken 
to  find  out  where  the  Indians  were.  Their  position  was  supposed 
to  be,  after  the  closest  investigation,  between  the  Rosebud  or 
the  Little  Big  Horn,  only  fifteen  miles  separating  the  two  streams. 
It  was  announced  by  Gen.  Terry  that  Gen.  Custer's  column  would 
strike  the  blow.  Gibbon  was  to  move  upon  them  at  the  same 
time,  by  a  route  of  nearly  equal  length,  but  no  orders  were  giv- 
en as  to  the  rate  of  marching,  and  Custer  was  left  entirely  to  his 


470  GENERAL    GEORGE   A.    OUSTER. 

own  direction  as  to  what  he  should  do  if  he  struck  the  enemy 
first. 

Leaving  the  camp  on  the  22nd  of  June,  the  regiment  marched 
up  the  Rosebud,  passing  many  deserted  Indian  camps,  and  follow- 
ing an  old  trail.  Learning  from  scouts  that  the  village  was  in 
the  valley  of  the  Little  Big  Horn,  Ouster  resolved  to  continue 
the  march  by  night,  that  he  might  surprise  the  Indians.  At  eight 
in  the  morning  of  the  25th  the  command  was  on  one  of  the 
branches  of  the  Little  Big  Horn ;  the  Indians  had  been  seen,  a 
surprise  was  no  longer  possible,  and  it  was  determined  to  attack 
at  once. 

Custer,  true  to  his  usual  custom  of  completely  surrounding  the 
enemy  before  an  attack,  a  policy  which  had  proved  so  successful 
at  the  Cheyenne  village  on  the  Washita,  now  divided  his  com- 
mand, sending  three  companies  under  Major  Reno  to  the  left,  and 
three  under  Captain  Benteen  farther  in  the  same  direction.  He 
retained  command  of  five  companies,  one  being  left  in  charge  of 
the  packs. 

As  they  moved  onward,  Major  Reno  received  orders  to  move  for- 
ward at  as  rapid  a  rate  as  possible,  since  the  village  was  running 
away,  and  to  charge  upon  it.  Advancing  at  a  fast  trot,  about  two 
miles  farther  on  he  came  to  a  ford  of  the  river,  where  he  crossed. 
Here  he  charged  down  the  valley,  driving  the  Indians  with  great 
ease  for  two  and  one-half  miles;  then,  thinking  he  was  being  drawn 
into  a  trap,  and  not  seeing  Custer,  or  any  support,  concluded  to  dis- 
mount his  men  and  make  it  a  purely  defensive  fight.  Finally, 
however,  he  again  mounted  his  command,  and  charged  once  more 
upon  the  Indians.  His  only  hope  had  been  to  gain  some  high 
ground,  and  this  he  succeeded  in  reaching.  Shortly  afterward, 
he  was  joined  by  Capt.  Benteen's  force,  which  had  been  sent  to 
sweep  everything  from  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  Leaving  the 
main  body  at  half-past  ten,  an  hour  and  a  half  was  occupied  by 
this  march.  Not  long  after  this,  Benteen  received  this  penciled 
order  from  Lieutenant  Cook,  Custer' s  adjutant: 

"  Benteen,  come  on ;  be  quick  ;  big  village  ;  bring  packs." 

He  reported  to  Reno,  in  direct  defiance  of  orders. 

When  the  three  battalions  separated,  Custer  moved  rapidly 
down  the  river  to  the  ford,  which  he  attempted  to  cross.  The 
Indians  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  the  effect  of  Major  Re- 
no's so-called  charge,  and  crossed  the  creek  to  the  east  side, 
where  Custer  was.  Custer  struck  their  village,  three  and  one- 


GENERAL    GEORGE   A.    OUSTER.  471 

half  miles  long,  about  the  middle,  his  attack  being  a  complete 
surprise  to  the  Sioux.  But  Beno's  hesitating  assault  had  con- 
vinced them  that  nothing  was  to  be  feared  from  him. 

Step  by  step,  Ouster's  command  was  driven  back  from  the 
ford.  JSTot  a  man  was  there  that  he  could  not  trust — faithful  and 
good  soldiers  were  those  who  remained  with  him.  As  they  re- 
treated, the  company  commanded  by  Lieutenant  Calhoun,  Ous- 
ter's brother-in-law,  was  posted  to  cover  the  rear.  Both  knew 
what  the  result  would  be.  Bravely  the  men  fought,  the  young 
commander,  the  bravest  and  gentlest  of  men,  encouraging  them 
to  the  last.  Beside  him  was  Second  Lieutenant  Crittenden,  who 
had  only  joined  the  previous  fall,  and  whose  first  battle  this  was, 
emulating  the  calm  courage  of  his  superior  officer.  Every  man 
in  his  place,  no  faltering,  no  going  back,  they  fought  on  until 
the  last  cartridge  was  gone,  and  one  by  one  dropped  dead  in  his 
tracks  under  that  terrible  hail  that  yonder  dark  cloud  of  savages 
poured  upon  them.  To  the  last,  the  voice  of  their  commander 
encouraged  them,  or  they  would  not  have  fallen  in  ranks,  every 
man  in  his  place,  to  the  very  end. 

Onward  rushed  the  Indians,  to  repeat  the  slaughter  upon  Cap- 
tain Keogh's  company.  Ouster  had  retreated  as  far  as  ho  could, 
and  was  now  determined  to  hold  the  Indians  in  check  until  Ben- 
teen  could  come  up  to  attack  them  in  the  rear.  He  knew  by  this 
time  that  Eeno  had  been  beaten,  or  he  would  have  been  heard 
from,  but  trusted  to  Benteen  for  the  help  he  so  sorely  needed. 

Keogh's  men  had  been  nerved  by  what  they  had  seen  to  die  as 
bravely  as  Calhoun's  company,  and  as  man  after  man  fell  in  his 
place,  the  survivors  closed  up  the  ranks. 

At  last  there  was  left  but  a  little  group  of  men  on  the  hill. 
Captains  Ouster's  and  Smith's  men  had  tried  to  cut  their  way  to 
the  river,  but  fell  in  the  ravine.  Captain  Yates'  company  was  with 
the  officers  on  the  hill.  Man  after  man  went  down;  at  last  the 
ammunition  grew  scant.  The  Indian  bullets  flew  like  swarms  of 
bees.  One  struck  gallant  Captain  Tom  Custer,  who  had  taken 
two  flags  from  the  enemy  in  battle,  and  yet  escaped;  he  fell,  and 
another  struck  him,  the  last  killing  him.  Beside  him  lay  the 
bodies  of  his  younger  brother,  and  of  their  nephew,  only  a  boy, 
just  out  of  school. 

The  Crow  scout,  Curly,  saw  that  there  was  no  hope,  and  beg- 
ged the  general  to  let  him  show  him  a  way  to  escape.  It  was  a 
momentary  pause,  while  the  Indians  were  gathering  for  a  fresh 


472 


GENERAL   GEORGE   A.   OUSTER. 


attack.  A  moment's  thought,  perhaps  of  the  wife,  and  of  mother 
who  were  praying  for  him,  and  he  waved  away  the  faithful  scout, 
and  went  back  to  die. 

Only  a  few  officers  were  left,  of  all  who  had  marched  toward 
the  river  that  morning.  Ouster's  last  shot  was  gone,  but  he  fought 
like  a  tiger  with  his  sabre,  and  before  that  terrible  weapon,  more 


r\VE   HAVE   KILLED   THEM    ALL1" — THE    MESSENGER   OF   VICTORY. 

dreaded  by  the  Indians  than  the  pistol,  three  warriors  went  down. 
As  the  last  fell,  the  hero  of  the  sun-dance,  that  Eain-in-the-Face 
whom  Ouster  would  have  hanged  for  the  murder  of  two  helpless 
old  men,  kept  his  vow,  gratified  his  revenge  ;  for  Ouster  fell  by 
a  ball  from  his  pistoL  Last  of  all  the  officers,  died  Lieutenant 
Cook,  and  the  few  remaining  men  fled,  only  to  be  cut  down  by 
the  enemy. 

Then  the  wounded  Indians  came  streaming  back  into  camp, 
with  the  words  : 

"We  have  killed  them  all;  put  up  your  lodges  where  they 
are." 

There  was  no  danger  now  to  the  Sioux  ;  Ouster  was  dead. 

The  story  is  told  by  the  Crow  scout  who  escaped,  and  by  the 
boasts  of  the  victors ;  and  the  position  of  the  bodies,  as  they 


GENERAL   GEORGE   A.    CUSTEB.  473 

Were  found  on  the  battle-field,  told  more  plainly  than  words  how 
every  man  had  fought*  Among  the  mtftilated  corpses  lay  that 
of  their  leader,  respected  even  in  death  by  his  enemy ;  reverence 
for  his  valor  and  for  his  swordsmanship  induced  them  to  spare 
his  body  the  indignities  shown  to  others. 

If  Beno  had  supported  him,  if  Benteen  had  followed  orders,  if 
a  higher  authority  had  not  displaced  him  from  command  so  that 
his  subordinates  could  dream  of  disobedience  — 

"  Of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 
The  saddest  are  these  —  "  It  might  have  been. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


WILD  BILL. 

SIX  feet  one  in  his  moccasins,  deep  chested,  compactly  built, 
with  quiet  gray  eyes,  clear  and  calm  as  a  woman's,  an  al- 
most womanish  gentleness  of  expression,  bright  chestnut  hair 
floating  over  his  shoulders — it  does  not  seem  a  promising  picture 
to  those  who  would  hear  of  adventure.  But  that  small,  muscu- 
lar hand  had  taken  deadly  aim  at  scores  of  men;  before  the  gaze 
of  that  eye  many  a  bold  border  spirit  had  quailed.  "He  shoots 
to  kill,"  says  the  admiring  plainsman,  with  that  cool  disregard 
of  human  life  which  is  so  common  in  any  newly  settled  country ; 
and  the  name  of  Wild  Bill  was  a  terror  to  evil-doers. 

Illinois  was  but  a  thinly  populated  state,  containing  fewer  in- 
habitants than  does  the  city  of  Chicago  at  this  moment,  when, 
in  May,  1837,  there  was  born,  in  La  Salle  County,  James  Butler 
Hickok,  better  known  to  us  as  Wild  Bill.  The  primitive  state 
of  the  country  doubtless  had  much  to  do  with  the  nature  of  his 
tastes  and  favorite  amusement — the  practice  of  marksmanship, 
then  an  indispensable  accomplishment  in  the  frontier  state  just 
east  of  the  Mississippi.  All  the  treasures  that  he  could  command 
were  jealously  hoarded,  trades  with  his  companions  increased  his 
stock  of  trifles  invaluable  to  a  boy,  and  at  last  he  had  enough  to 
barter  for  a  pistol.  A  little,  single-barreled,  flint-lock,  old  style 
pistol  was  a  priceless  treasure  to  the  eight-year-old  boy,  ancl  he 
only  ceased  to  practice  with  it  when  ammunition  gave  out.  Then 
every  effort  was  made  to  get  powder;  the  place  of  lead  could  be 
supplied  by  pebbles,  but  he  must  have  powder,  and  all  the  lesser 
valuables  that  he  could  accumulate  were  traded  off  for  that  neces- 
sary article. 

The  character  of  the  services  which  he  rendered  to  his  family  and 
country  may  readily  be  guessed.  If  a  runaway  hunting  expedition 
into  the  woods  was  too  severely  punished,  his  enthusiasm  found 
vent  in  shots  at  stray  chickens  or  pigs.  He  was  not  appreciated, 


WILD  BILL. 


475 


however,  as  lie  expected  to  be,  and  he  was  actually  compelled 
to  go  to  school  whenever  an  occasional  session  gave  opportunity. 
How  far  his  education  went,  in  the  direction  of  books,  is  doubt- 
ful ;  certainly  not  very  far ;  but  at  any  rate  he  learned  to  read,  and 
eagerly  devoured  the  few  books  of  adventure  that  came  in  his  way. 
Happier  times  came,  however,  when  he  was  about  fourteen,  for 
then  he  became  the  possessor  of  an  excellent  pistol  and  a  rifle, 
and  thus  armed,  he  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  woods.  Such 
were  the  ravages  of  the  wolves  at  that  period,  that  the  state  of- 


WILD  BILL  SHOOTING  WOLVES. 


fered  premiums  for  their  scalps,  and  young  Hickok  now  found 
his  skill  with  the  rifle  and  the  pistol  enabled  him  to  earn  no  small 
income.  But  the  story  of  Kit  Carson's  adventures  had  inflamed 
him  with  a  passion  for  the  "West,  and  declaring  to  his  brothers 
that  he  would  one  day  beat  anything  that  Carson  had  ever  at- 
tempted, he  proceeded  to  the  realization  of  his  ambition.  A  short 
experience  as  tow-path  driver  on  the  Illinois  and  Michigan  canal, 
was  ended  by  a  flght  with  another  driver.  Though  fists  were  the 
only  weapons,  and  his  antagonist  was  a  powerful  man,  the  boy's 
activity  and  endurance  gave  him  a  decided  victory.  After  this, 
he  returned  home,  and  lived  quietly  for  two  years,  or  until  he 
was  about  eighteen  years  old. 


476  WILD  BUI. 


The  troubles  in  Kansas  were  then  beginning,  and  thirsting  foi* 
excitement,  our  hero  betook  himself  thither.  Collecting  as  much 
money  as  he  could  command,  he  set  out  on  foot  to  St.  Louis. 
Great  as  have  been  the  changes  of  nearly  thirty  years,  even  in 
1855  this  son  of  the  prairie  found  much  that  was  wonderful  in 
the  great  city,  inferior  only  to  New  Orleans  and  Cincinnati 
among  those  west  of  the  Alleghanies.  The  railroads  toward  the 
west  were  then  unheard  of,  but  along  the  levee,  from  Bremen  to 
Carondelet,  stretched  a  line  of  magnificent  steamers,  that  formed 
a  main  element  of  the  city's  prosperity.  In  all  directions  they 
went,  from  all  directions  they  came;  and  after  mature  delibera- 
tion, our  young  adventurer  took  passage  on  one  bound  for  the 
upper  Missouri;  his  proposed  destination  being  Leavenworth. 
History  says  it  was  a  tedious  journey,  and  those  who  can  recall 
a  steamboat  trip  on  the  Missouri  will  doubtless  accept  the  state- 
ment as  true. 

Arriving  at  Leavenworth,  they  found  that  the  mob,  unreason- 
ably suspicious  of  their  intentions,  would  not  permit  them  to 
land.  "Where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way,  and  young  Hickok, 
costuming  himself  as  a  roustabout,  and  engaging  in  their  work, 
managed,  while  carrying  off  freight,  to  slip  through  the  crowd, 
and  gain  the  centre  of  the  town.  Once  there,  he  soon  joined  the 
anti-slavery  forces,  led  by  Jim  Lane,  a  recent  immigrant  from 
Indiana.  Three  hundred  men,  each  armed  with  such  weapons  as 
taste  or  means  dictated,  formed  the  regiment  that  was  called  out 
for  drill  and  rifle  practice  a  few  days  after  Hickok  joined  it.  As 
Lane  was  complimenting  his  young  recruit  on  the  excellence  of 
his  marksmanship,  in  which  he  easily  beat  every  man  present, 
the  boy's  quick  eye  saw  a  crow  flying  overhead.  Drawing  a  pis- 
tol from  his  pocket,  he  took  aim,  pulled  the  trigger,  and  the  bird 
fell  dead.  He  returned  the  weapon  to  his  pocket  without  a  word  ; 
indeed,  any  comment  would  have  been  unheard  in  the  wild  cheer- 
ing with  which  his  comrades  greeted  the  excellence  of  the  shot. 
Thenceforth  he  was  the  darling  of  the  regiment,  that  marked  its 
favor  by  the  bestowal  of  the  nickname,  Shanghai  Bill.  The  rea- 
son of  the  first  part  of  the  name  may  be  readily  guessed,  when 
we  remember  his  stature,  which  was  now  joined  to  the  slender 
build  of  a  boy  ;  but  why  "Bill"  was  preferred  to  his  own  name, 
no  one  knows.  It  may  have  been  a  mistake;  it  may  have  had  a 
reason;  certain  it  is  that  the  soubriquet  clung  to  him  through- 
out  his  life. 


WILD   BILL.  477 

For  two  years  he  fought  as  a  brave  and  excellent  soldier  to 
keep  slavery  out  of  Kansas,  always  recognized  by  Lane  as  the 
most  effective  man  in  the  command.  Then,  entering  a  claim  of 
a  quarter  section  in  Johnson  County,  he  built  a  cabin,  and  settled 
down  to  farming.  Though  not  yet  of  age,  such  was  his  reputa- 
tion that  he  was  almost  immediately  elected  constable.  The 
conscientious  and  efficient  way  in  which  he  did  the  work  of  this 
position  did  not  endear  him  to  those  Missourians  who  made  fre- 
quent predatory  incursions  on  Kansas  soil,  and  twice  they  burned 
his  cabin  during  his  absence  from  home.  Giving  up  the  idea  of 
living  quietly  here,  he  engaged  himself  as  driver  for  the  Over- 
land Stage  Company.  In  such  a  position  it  was  not  difficult  to 
make  a  reputation,  honorable  or  not,  according  to  one's  personal 
courage  and  prowess.  Apparently  a  reckless  driver,  few  acci- 
dents happened  to  him,  and  as  he  drove  the  big  Concord  coach, 
bounding  along  like  a  wounded  buffalo,  at  headlong  speed  down 
the  hill  into  Santa  Pe,  the  rough  frequenters  of  the  saloons,  always 
fighting  drunk  and  armed  to  the  teeth,  looked  on  in  admiration. 
Yictor  in  twenty  fights  or  more,  the  best  shot  on  the  plains,  and 
never  losing  his  presence  of  mind  in  an  emergency  requiring 
action,  he  was  the  hero  of  all  who  knew  him. 

Such  were  the  foundations  of  a  reputation  that  before  many 
years  was  to  extend  to  the  seaboard  on  either  side  of  the  conti- 
nent; a  reputation  even  then  shortly  to  be  enhanced  by  success 
as  a  soldier.  It  was  in  the  fall  of  1858  that  the  Indians,  break- 
ing out  of  the  reservation  on  the  Sweetwater,  committed  many 
outrages.  Settlers  were  massacred,  cabins  burned,  express  rid- 
ers killed,  and  at  last  a  large  party  attacked  a  stage-coach,  kill- 
ing four  men,  and  seriously  wounding  others.  Nor  was  this  all. 
The  theft  of  horses  was  so  frequent  as  to  seriously  cripple  the 
service,  and  the  danger  was  such  that  for  more  than  two  months 
express  and  stage  were  suspended  on  that  division.  Summoned 
to  St.  Joseph  to  attend  a  council  that  the  officers  held  regarding 
the  best  means  of  proceeding  against  the  Indians,  Bill  offered  for 
consideration  a  plan  which  wras  immediately  adopted.  At  the 
head  of  fifty  well-armed  and  mounted  men,  they  set  out,  on  the 
29th  of  September,  towards  Powder  Eiver,  where  they  found  an 
indistinct  trail.  It  grew  fresher  as  they  went  on,  and  chock  full 
of  dare-devil  courage  as  each  one  was,  they  were  not  sorry  to  find 
that  they  were  close  upOn  the  marauders.  Suddenly,  as  they  fol- 
lowed in  the  footsteps  of  the  Indians,  they  found  that  the  origin- 


478 


WILD   BILL. 


al  party  had  been  joined  by  another  of  equal  size,  so  that  the 
enemy  now  numbered  about  two  hundred.  Many  were  the  ex- 
pressions of  opinion  about  the  expediency  of  following  a  force 
four  times  as  great  as  their  own,  but  Bill  cut  the  discussion  short 
with : 

"I'll  shoot  the  first  man  that  tries  to  go  back,"  and  none  tried. 

Perhaps  the  threat  was  not  needed  ;  at  any  rate,  his  men  were 
filled  with  new  enthusiasm,  and  went  gaily  onward  to  Clear 
Creek.  Here  the  trail  was  but  two  or  three  hours  old,  for  the 
Indians  march  but  slowly  when  they  do  not  fear  pursuit;  and 


WILD   BILL   (j.   B.   HICKOK.) 

nothing  but  the  lateness  of  the  day  prevented  an  attack  as  soon 
as  they  could  be  overtaken.  A  halt  was  ordered. 

"  Do  you  see  that  little  blue  smoke  over  the  hill-tops?"  asked 
Bill,  pointing  due  north.  "Well,  that  means  an  Indian  camp. 
You  boys  just  stop  right  here  and  I'll  locate  the  game." 

Leaving  the  trail  and  riding  far  to  the  windward,  he  reached 
a  high  point  from  which  he  could  reconnoiter  the  camp.  Satisfy- 
ing himself  as  to  the  exact  force  of  the  Indians,  how  their  camp 
was  pitched,  and  that  the  stock  was  corraled,  not  tethered,  he 
returned  to  his  men. 

Eesting  themselves  and  their  horses,  and  getting  everything  in 
readiness  for  a  fight,,  it  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  signal  was  given 


WILD   BILL.  479 

to  mount  and  ride  onward.  Proceeding  toward  the  camp  with 
due  caution,  they  found  that  the  Indians,  as  usual,  had  set  no 
guard,  trusting  to  their  quick  ears  and  light  slumber  to  inform 
them  of  the  approach  of  an  enemy.  The  awakening  came  too 
late.  Eousing  themselves  from  the  first  sound  sleep,  they  hardly 
realized  what  the  confusion  meant ;  but  as  each  came  out  of  his 
lodge,  he  went  down  before  the  pistols  of  the  attacking  party, 
who  were  commanded  to  use  no  other  weapons.  The  assault  was 
a  complete  success ;  the  fight  quickly  became  a  slaughter,  the 
horses  and  ponies  were  secured,  so  thatthe  Indians  had  no  means 
of  pursuit  left  to  them.  Eeturning  to  St.  Joseph  with  their  booty, 
all  of  the  stolen  horses  and  more  than  a  hundred  Indian  ponies, 
a  big  spree  celebrated  their  success.  Of  course  a  fight  followed, 
but  only  one  man  was  killed. 

Leaving  the  service  of  the  Overland  Stage  Company,  in  1859, 
Bill  engaged  to  drive  freight  teams  from  Independence,  Mo.,  to 
Santa  Fe.  It  was  while  thus  employed  that  he  met  with  an  ad- 
venture that  came  near  being  a  fatal  one;  nothing  less  than  an 
encounter  with  a  huge  cinnamon  bear,  strong  and  active  as  the 
grizzly,  and  possessed  of  greater  powers  of  endurance. 

The  teamster  in  charge  of  the  eompanion  wagon  had  fallen 
some  distance  behind  when  Bill  saw,  dire'ctly  in  front,  as  if  dis- 
puting the  right  of  way  with  him,  a  huge  cinnamon  bear  and  her 
two  cubs.  Moved  with  fear  for  the  safety  of  her  young,  the  ani- 
mal growled  forbiddingly  as  the  bold  pi  ainsman  advanced  towards 
her.  Armed  with  a  pair  of  pistols  and  a  large  bowie-knife,  Bill  felt 
no  fear  as  to  the  result  of  the  encounter,  little  knowing  the  strength 
or  endurance  of  the  enemy  with  which  he  had  to  contend.  As 
the  bear  approached  him,  he  took  aim,  and  when  she  was  within 
about  twenty  feet  of  him,  fired.  The  ball  struck  her  squarely  on  the 
forehead,  but  rebounded  like  a  hailstone  from  the  thick  skull, 
serving  only  to  inflict  a  trifling  cut  that  infuriated  the  animal, 
already  angry.  N~o  time  remained  for  retreat  to  the  safety  of  the 
wagon-top,  for  in  the  next  instant  the  bear  sprang  upon  him,  bury- 
ing her  long,  sharp  claws  in  his  flesh.  The  second  pistol  disabled 
one  paw,  but  rearing  upon  her  hind  legs  the  bear  grappled  with 
him  almost  like  a  human  antagonist.  His  left  forearm  was 
crushed,  his  breast  ploughed  in  bloody  seams  by  the  claws,  his 
shoulder  torn,  his  cheek  laid  open,  but  time  after  time  the  long 
knife  was  plunged  into  the  huge  brown  carcass,  until  the  blood 
of  both  antagonists,  brute  and  human,  flowing  in  rivulets  from 


480 


WILD    BILL. 


wounds,  soaked  the  ground  on  which  they  fought.  Now  his  foot 
slips,  and  he  falls  to  the  earth,  the  bear  over  him,  holding  his 
left  arm  in  her  mouth ;  but  with  almost  superhuman  strength  he 
reverses  their  positions,  and  again  and  again  buries  his  dripping 

knife  in  her  flesh.  At  last 
a  deadly  gash  across  the 
throat  severs  the  wind- 
pipe, and  his  terrible  an- 
tagonist is  dead.  Faint 
with  loss  of  blood  and 
severe  exertion,  he  lies 
beside  her,  only  able, 
when  his  companion  at 
last  comes  up,  to  point 
feebly  to  the  dead  bear 
and  his  own  wounds.  For 
two  months  he  lay  help- 
less, and  several  more  had 
passed  before  he  was  able 
to  go  to  work  again. 

He  did  not,  on  his  re- 
covery, again  enter  the 
employment  of  the 
freighters,  but  took  a 
situation,  offered  by  the 
Overland  Stage  Co.,  as 
watchman  and  hostler  at 
Bock  Creek  Station,  fifty 
miles  west  of  Topeka. 
This  was  a  relay  post 
where  generally  about  twenty-five  horses  were  kept.  Bill's  duties 
were  more  in  the  way  of  protecting  the  animals  from  the  thieves 
so  plentiful  in  that  part  of  the  country,  than  in  attending  to  the 
horses,  an  assistant  being  provided  for  the  latter  purpose.  They 
were  lodged  in  a  "dug-out,"  a  thatched  cabin  built  on  the  hillside, 
so  that  the  back  and  part  of  the  side  walls  were  formed  of  earth, 
the  remainder  of  the  cabin  being  of  logs.  A  horse-blanket  formed 
the  only  partition  between  kitchen  and  bed-room.  More  commo- 
dious and  pretentious  were  the  buildings  used  as  stables;  and 
strong  enough  to  defy,  when  locked,  any  ordinary  assault.  Here, 
in  this  lonely  cabin  on  the  hill-side,  the  two  men  passed  the  fall 


WILD  BILL'S   FIGHT   WITH  THE   BEAR. 


WILD   BILL.  481 

of  1861,  the  monotony  of  this  life  only  broken  by  the  daily  ar- 
rival of  the  stage  with  news  from  the  outer  world.  Exciting 
news  it  was,  for  the  papers  told  of  the  contest  even  then  in  pro- 
gress. But  those  were  the  days  when  men  enlisted  "  for  the 
war/'  rather  than  for  two  months,  since  no  one  wanted  to  be  a 
soldier  longer  than  this  trifling  conflict  should  last. 

About  a  dozen  miles  from  this  station  was  the  rendezvous  of  a 
gang  of  horse-thieves,  who  occasionally  committed  highway  rob- 
bery. Like  many  such  bands,  they  tried  to  attach  themselves  to 
the  military  service ;  during  the  whole  war,  the  guerillas,  or 
bushwhackers,  claiming  to  belong  to  one  of  the  two  armies, 
made  odious  the  name  of  that  to  which  they  were  attached.  The 
McCandlas  gang,  as  this  was  called  from  its  leaders,  two  brothers 
of  that  name,  was  the  most  prominent  in  that  portion  of  the  state, 
pretending  that  they  were  commissioned  to  collect  horses  and 
enlist  recruits  for  the  Confederate  army.  The  horses  of  the 
Overland,  at  Hock  Creek,  numerous  and  in  good  condition,  were  a 
tempting  prize,  of  which  they  were  resolved  to  become  possessed. 
Bill,  too,  the  best  shot  in  the  state,  and  utterly  fearless,  would  be 
a  most  valuable  addition  to  their  numbers.  But  threats  and  per- 
suasions proved  useless. 

"  When  you  want  these  horses  come  and  take  them,  and  if  you 
want  me,  you'll  find  me  here." 

Such  was  the  answer  which  he  gave  to  a  party  of  five,  on  the 
morning  of  the  16th  of  December.  The  outlaws  rode  on — he  was 
too  formidable  to  be  attacked  by  such  a  force — and  Bill  prepared 
for  their  return.  His  companion  was  out  hunting,  and  could  not 
be  expected  to  come  back  in  time  to  render  any  assistance.  The 
stables  were  locked,  the  door  and  the  one  window  of  the  dug- 
out secured,  his  weapons — a  large  bore  rifle,  two  revolvers  and 
two  bowie-knives — carefully  examined. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  short  winter  day 
when  the  two  McCandlas  boys,  with  eight  of  their  most  desper- 
ate followers,  rode  up  to  the  cabin.  Finding  the  doors  of  the 
stables  locked,  and  the  house  prepared  for  defense,  they  yet 
trusted  that  their  numbers  would  inspire  the  watchman  with 
fear. 

"  Come  out  o'  yer  shell,"  yelled  one  of  the  leaders  with  an 
oath.  "  Ef  yer  don't,  thar'll  be  a  small-sized  murder  at  Rock 
Creek,  and  the  Company'll  hev  to  hire  another  watchman." 

"  I'll  shoot  the  first  man  that  tries  to  open  a  stable  door,"  an- 


482 


WILD  BILL. 


swered  Bill  ;"and  ef  thar's  any  murderin'  done  at  Bock  Creek 
this  arternoon  thar'll  be  more'n  one  corpse  to  bury." 

"  Surround  the  house  and  give  him  no  quarter  1" 

"  Come  and  fight  me,  you  cowardly  dog ! " 

We  omit  the  most  emphatic  words  in  the  conversation ;  such 
words  as  cause  the  Indian  to  call  our  language  "  talk  damn."  It 
must  be  understood  that  the  whole  proceedings  were  liberally 
garnished  with  such  expletives.  Tying  their  horses  to  surround- 
ing trees,  they  began  to  batter  the  door  with  a  log  which  lay  near 


FIGHT   WITH   THE   MCCANDLAS   GANG. 


by;  the  defence  soon  gave  way,  and  Jim  McCandlas,  armed  with 
revolver  and  bowie-knife,  leaped  into  the  room,  his  finger  on  the 
trigger,  ready  to  shoot.  But  Bill  was  too  quick  for  him;  a  rifle- 
ball  through  his  heart,  and  drawing  up  his  legs,  as  though  to 
make  room  for  his  companions,  the  desperado  fell  dead.  In  quick 
succession  three  shots  from  Bill's  pistol  killed  as  many  more  of 
his  assailants,  and  the  fight  became  more  furious  every  moment. 
The  remainder  of  the  gang  had  now  surrounded  Bill,  who  pour- 
ed shots  right  and  left,  and  thrust  desperately  with  his  knife ; 
but  the  odds  were  great,  and  when  one  of  them  struck  him  over 


WILD    BILL.  483 

the  head  and  knocked  him  backward,  Jack  McCandlas  jumped 
upon  him,  with  knife  ready  to  plunge  into  his  heart.  Bill  strug- 
gled, freed  his  right  arm,  and  placing  the  muzzle  of  his  pistol 
right  against  his  enemy's  breast,  fired  as  the  knife  descended. 
The  hand  of  the  dying  man  dropped*helpless,  he  rolled  to  the 
floor,  and  his  almost  victim  regained  his  feet.  The  blood  poured 
from  his  own  wounds  and  mingled  with  that  of  his  adversaries 
as  Bill  fought  on,  like  a  tiger  at  bay.  On  the  floor  of  the  hut 
lay  six  of  the  desperadoes,  dead,  and  two  desperately  wounded. 
These,  with  the  two  still  uninjured,  now  beat  a  retreat,  the  latter 
managing  to  regain  their  horses  and  ride  away;  one  of  the 
wounded  men  likewise  escaped,  but  afterward  died  of  his  injuries; 
but  as  the  other  ran,  Bill  snatched  a,  gun  from  the  hunter,  who 
just  came  up  at  this  time,  and  fired  at  him;  it  is  needless  to  say 
he  fell  dead  in  his  tracks. 

"  All  of  a  sudden,"  said  the  hero  of  this  fight,  when  telling  of 
it  afterward,  "  it  seemed  as  if  my  heart  was  on  fire.  I  was  bleed- 
ing everywhere.  I  rushed  out  to  the  well  and  drank  from  the 
bucket,  and  then  tumbled  down  in  a  faint." 

His  companion  carried  him  into  the  house,  where  he  lay  un- 
conscious for  nearly  an  hour.  The  arrival  of  the  stago  then 
brought  help,  for  one  of  the  passengers  possessed  some  surgical 
skill,  and  he  revived  him  and  dressed  his  wounds. 

"  I  remember  that  one  of  them  struck  me  with  his  gun,  and  1 
got  hold  of  a  knife;  and  then  I  got  kind  o'  wild  like,  and  it  was 
all  cloudy,  and  I  struck  savage  blows,  following  the  devils  up 
from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other  and  into  the  corners, 
striking  and  slashing  until  I  knew  every  one  was  dead." 

Such  was  all  that  he  could  then  tell  of  the  fight.  As  his  strength 
returned,  so  that  he  need  no  longer  speak  while  gasping  for 
breath,  the  earlier  part  of  the  conflict  was  detailed,  and  the  two 
who  had  escaped  confirmed  the  story  by  their  own  independent 
account.  The  listening  bystanders  caught  at  his  expression,  and 
henceforth  the  name  of  Shanghai  Bill  was  dropped  in  favor  of 
that  which  he  bore  until  his  death.  But  the  victory  was  dearly 
bought;  for  months  he  lay  helpless,  so  severe  were  his  wounds, 
and  nearly  a  year  had  elapsed  before  he  was  entirely  well. 

Going  to  Leavenworth  on  his  recovery,  he  was  appointed  Bri- 
gade "Wagon  Master  by  Gen.  Fremont,  then  in  command  there. 
The  war  was  now  at  its  height,  and  those  states  in  which,  like 
Missouri  and  Kansas,  both  sides  were  represented  in  almost  equal 
31 


484  WILD    BILL. 

numbers,  were  the  scenes  of  the  fiercest  conflicts  between  small 
parties.  Bill's  first  trip  with  a  train  was  toward  Sedalia,  a  few 
days  after  his  appointment.  The  wagons,  laden  with  provisions, 
were  a  tempting  prize  to  the  Confederates,  and  on  the  third  day 
from  their  departure  the/ were  attacked  by  a  company  of  Gen. 
Price's  command.  The  force  was  small,  numbering  only  twelve 
men,  and  judging  the  odds  too  great  for  successful  resistance, 
they  yielded  without  firing  a  shot.  The  leader,  however,  was  a 
man  of  another  mettle.  Turning  his  horse  towards  Kansas  City, 
he  spurred  onward,  followed  by  a  least  fifty  of  the  attacking 
party.  Mile  after  mile  they  rode,  and  four  of  the  pursuers  fell 
dead  before  the  fugitive's  pistol;  bullets  fell  like  hail  around 
him,  but  none  touched  him.  At  last  he  was  safe  within  the  lines, 
and  his  assailants  returned  to  their  booty. 

Bill  reported  the  facts  to  the  commander  at  this  post,  who  de- 
tailed two  companies  to  assist  him  in  recovering  the  property. 
He  felt  himself  disgraced  by  this  loss  of  his  first  charge,  and  was 
eager  to  avenge  himself.  The  Confederates,  elated  at  their  suc- 
cess, were  taken  by  surprise;  a  short  and  decisive  fight  followed 
the  charge  which  Wild  Bill  led  into  their  ranks  as  they  were 
marching  towards  headquarters,  and  Bill  conducted  the  train  in 
triumph  to  Sedalia. 

He  had  not  enlisted  in  the  army,  but  voluntarily  took  the  place 
of  a  sharp-shooter  in  the  battle  of  Pea  Ridge,  in  March,  1862 ; 
lying  behind  a  large  log  on  a  hill  overlooking  Cross-Timber 
Hollow,  for  nearly  four  hours,  picking  oif  the  Confederates.  His 
victims  numbered  thirty-five,  and  were  of  all  ranks,  from  the 
private  soldier  to  Gen.  McCulloch.  The  attention  of  a  Confeder- 
ate company  was  directed  towards  the  source  of  this  murderous 
fire,  and  they  charged  upon  him,  riddling  the  log  with  bullet- 
holes.  But  a  company  of  his  comrades  saw  his  danger,  and 
charging  down  the  hill,  came  to  a  hand-to-hand  encounter  with 
the  Bebs,  which  proved  to  be  the  hottest  engagement  of  the  bat- 
tle, more  than  half  on  both  sides  being  killed. 

Soon  after  this  battle,  Gen.  Curtis  engaged  Bill  as  a  spy,  with 
orders  to  enter  Gen.  Price's  lines  and  get  all  the  information  he 
could  about  that  officer's  intentions.  Every  effort  was  being 
made  to  carry  Missouri  into  the  Confederacy;  her  people  were 
in  sympathy  with  the  more  southern  states,  and  the  Government 
was  seriously  alarmed  at  the  stand  she  had  taken.  Many  Mis- 
sourians  had  flocked  to  price's  army,  and  steps  must  be  immedi- 


WILD    BILL.  485 

ately  taken  to  drive  him  out  of  the  borders  of  the  state.  Bill 
was  given  a  fine  horse  and  instructed  to  make  his  way  into  the 
Confederate  lines  as  speedily  as  possible,  by  any  means  that  he 
chose.  Assuming  the  name  of  Bill  Barnes,  and  representing  him- 
self as  the  brother  of  a  man  recently  killed  in  the  Confederate 
army  in  Texas,  he  made  a  wide  circuit,  entering  the  state  of  Ar- 
kansas somewhat  south  of  the  center,  and  went  to  Little  Eock. 
There  he  enlisted  in  a  company  of  mounted  rangers  organizing 
to  join  Price. 

The  Missourian  had  fallen  back  to  Elk  River,  where  he  was 
reinforced  by  Gen.  Shelby,  and  the  united  forces  awaited  the 
coming  of  Gen.  Curtis,  who,  with  a  slightly  inferior  command, 
was  following  swiftly  from  the  north.  Bill  was  appointed  an 
orderly  within  a  week  after  his  enlistment,  a  position  enabling 
him  to  execute  his  plans  all  the  better.  As  the  two  armies  lay 
drawn  up  in  order  of  battle,  separated  only  by  the  narrow  creek, 
and  waiting  only  for  daylight  to  begin  the  battle,  Gen.  Price, 
who  occupied  the  right,  sent  Bill  with  despatches  to  Shelby,  who 
was  on  the  left.  Taking  the  papers  from  the  hands  of  the  gen- 
eral, Bill  saluted  with  all  the  respectful  grace  he  could  command, 
and  rode  directly  towards  the  left.  Once  out  of  sight,  however, 
he  turned  his  course  towards  the  company  in  which  he  had  en- 
listed, and,  addressing  a  certain  braggadocio  sergeant,  said  : 

"  Jake  Lawson,  come  out  here;  I  want  to  see  you  a  minute." 

A  tall,  lank  Arkansan,  whose  joints  appeared  to  be  on  the 
jumping-jack  pattern,  came  lounging  out  of  his  tent. 

"Whatcher  want?"  he  enquired,  rolling  a  huge  quid  into  his 
cheek. 

"I  want  to  have  some  fun,  that's  what.  Let's  astonish  these 
fellers  that  have  never  been  under  fire,  and  give  'em  something 
to  fight  up  to  to-morrow." 

"  What  shall  it  be — pistols  at  three  paces,  or  hand  to  hand 
with  the  bowie  ?  Jist  what  yer  like." 

"No,"  answered  Bill,  with  some  scorn;  "the  general  can't  af- 
ford to  lose  his  men  that  way;  but  I'll  bet  my  horse  agin  yourn 
that  I  kin  ride  closer  to  the  Feds'  line  than  you  kin." 

"Humph !"  answered  Lawson,  as  he  took  a  fresh  "chaw,"  and 
turning  on  his  heel  strode  back  into  his  tent. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Jake  ?    Are  you  afraid?" 

"No,  I  ain't  afeared,  but  what's  the  sence  or  to  in  such  a 
d— d  trick  as  that  '<?re?" 


486 


WILD    BILL. 


"None  at  all  for  them  as  as  don't  see  any.  I  just  wanted  to  see 
if  you  would  go." 

"Kinder  looks  as  ef  Jake  wasn't  the  reel  stuff,  arter  all," 
remarked  a  bystander,  and  taunt  and  jeer  soon  drew  Jake  out 
again,  resolved  to  disprove  their  opinion  of  his  courage.  Anx- 
iously were  the  two  followed  by  the  eyes  of  the  whole  company 
as  they  rode  forward  on  what  seemed  truly  a  fool's  errand.  As 
they  dashed  onward,  the  Union  pickets  began  to  fire  upon  them. 


TAKIXG   TO   THE  WATER. 


"Hold  your  fire,"  shouted  the  foremost  man,  "I'm  Wild  Bill, 
trying  to  get  into  the  lines." 

The  Confederate,  thus  apprised  of  his  companion's  character, 
drew  his  pistol  and  took  aim,  but  before  he  could  pull  the  trigger 
a  bullet  went  crashing  through  his  brain,  and  he  reeled  and  fell 
from  his  horse.  The  riderless  steed  galloped  onward,  and  stoop- 
ing from  his  saddle,  Wild  Bill  caught  the  bridle  and  led  it  beside 
his  own.  The  passage  of  the  creek  was  fraught  with  the  greatest 
danger,  as  his  progress  was  necessarily  slow,  and  the  Confeder- 
ates had  gathered  in  great  force  on  the  bank.  Thick  as  hail  the 
bullets  fell  around  him  from  at  least  fifty  rifles,  but  he  escaped 
unhurt  to  the  farther  side.  In  consequence  of  this  exposure  of 


WILD  BILL.  487 

their  designs,  the  Confederates  broke  camp  that  night,  and  re- 
treated farther  towards  the  Arkansas,  swearing  over  the  way 
they  had  been  deceived. 

Gen.  Curtis  continued  the  pursuit,  and  before  long  desired  Wild 
Bill  to  again  enter  the  Confederate  line.  A  thorough  disguise 
was  of  course  necessary.  Of  exquisite  manly  beauty  of  face  and 
form,  and  very  neat  about  his  person,  he  made  himself  into  a  first- 
class  specimen  of  the  average  Arkansan  of  the  lowest  class, 
slouchy  in  build  and  bearing.  Accompanied  by  Nat.  Tuckett,  an 
old  friend,  he  again  made  a  wide  circuit  around  the  Confederate 
army,  and  proceeding  to  Texas  enlisted  under  Kirby  Smith. 
That  general  was  about  to  move  up  into  Arkansas,  where  Curtis 
was  still  pressing  Price  and  Shelby,  and  struck  his  tents  a  few 
days  after  Bill  and  his  companion  joined.  Smith  crossed  the 
Arkansas  near  Lewisburg,  and  both  armies  halted  in  line  of 
battle  about  one  thousand  yards  apart.  General  Curtis  began  a 
brisk  shelling,  in  order  to  dislodge  the  enemy  from  the  protec- 
tion of  their  breastworks,  but  the  fire  appeared  to  be  wholly  in- 
effectual. 

For  more  than  an  hour  this  state  of  things  continued.  Sudden- 
ly, from  the  breastworks  leaped  two  horsemen,  who  rode  at  full 
speed  towards  the  Union  lines.  For  a  moment  the  Federal 
troops  wondered  what  this  meant,  then  their  wild  cheering 
echoed  the  shots  that  the  Rebels  poured  upon  the  riders;  they 
were  trying  to  escape.  Breathlessly  they  watched,  as  a  dozen 
cavalrymen  dashed  after  the  fugitives  ;  now  two  of  the  pursuers 
distance  the  others;  now  the  first  riders  reach  a  broad  ditch;  the 
horse  of  one  clears  it  at  a  bound,  his  companion  falls,  as  a  bullet 
from  the  pistol  of  one  of  the  nearest  pursuers  whistles  through 
the  air ;  the  remaining  man  wheels  his  horse  around  and  levels 
his  revolver;  he  is  too  far  off  for  them  to  hear  the  reports,  but 
they  see  two  puffs  of  smoke,  and  see  the  two  foremost  graycoats 
fall  beside  their  horses;  the  others  are  too  far  behind  him  to 
overtake  him,  and  he  rides  into  the  lines  waving  his  hat  in  tri- 
umph; but  yet  he  has  a  soldier's  tear  for  his  fallen  comrade, 
whom  he  returns  to  bury. 

"Why  did  you  run  such  a  risk?"  asked  his  comrades  of  Wild 
Bill.  "  You  could  have  stolen  into  our  lines  in  the  night." 

"  Oh,"  he  answered,  "  mate  and  I  wanted  to  show  them  cussed 
Rebs  what  a  Union  soldier  could  do.  We've  been  with  'em  now 
for  more'n  a  month,  and  heard  nothing  but  brag,  and  we  thought 


488  WILD  BILL. 

we'd  take  it  out  of  'em.  But  if  they  have  killed  my  mate  they 
shall  pay  a  big  price  for' it." 

Asking  and  obtaining  leave  of  absence,  Wild  Bill  went  to 
Leavenworth,  where  he  met  young  William  Cody,  better  known 
in  later  days  as  Buffalo  Bill.  Their  acquaintance  was  one  of  sev- 
eral years'  standing,  and  each  had  a  high  regard  for  the  other. 
Engaging  to  take  a  Government  train  to  Holla,  Mo.,  Wild  Bill 
invited  Billy  to  accompany  him,  and  the  offer  was  gladly  ac- 
cepted. The  train  reached  its  destination  in  safety,  and  the  com- 
panions, aged  respectively  twenty-five  and  seventeen,  continued 
their  journey  to  Saint  Louis,  to  have  some  fun.  Wild  Bill  owned 
a  fine  horse,  that  had  done  good  service  in  scouting  expeditions, 
and  finding,  on  their  arrival  in  the  city,  that  the  September  races 
would  take  place  in  a  few  days,  decided  to  enter  "Old  Moun- 
tain." 

Under  no  other  circumstances  is  a  man  so  easily  deceived  as 
when  backing  up  a  favorite  horse,  and  all  the  funds  of  both  were 
put  up. 

"  Old  Mountain  ain't  a  handsome  horse,"  said  Wild  Bill,  con- 
fidentially, to  Billy,  "  but  I  know  it's  in  him,  though  the  other 
fellows  don't  suspect  him,  and  are  willing  enough  to  bet  against 
him.  "We'll  make  a  clean  sweep  of  all,  I  know." 

Billy  listened  reverentially  ;  who  should  know  anything  about 
horses  if  his  "  companion  guide  and  friend"  did  not?  All  their 
ready  money  was  staked — no  hedging, — and  now  they  bet  the 
horse  against  $250  cash.  All  the  proceeds  were  to  be  equally  di- 
vided. At  last  the  eventful  day  came.  Old  Mountain  did  his  best, 
urged  onward  by  Billy,  who  certainly  could  not  be  accused  of 
the  tricks  which  some  jockeys  are  said  to  practise,  to  secure  the 
victory  for  another  and  greater  favorite;  but  the  endeavors  of 
both  were  useless,  and  the  race  was  lost.  Penniless  and  friend- 
less, now,  in  the  midst  of  the  great  city,  our  two  friends  found 
themselves.  There  was  only  one  thing  thatpresented  itself,  and 
upon  the  suggestion  Wild  Bill  immediately  acted.  Going  to  mil- 
itary headquarters  and  re-engaging  himself  as  scout,  he  thus 
secured  twenty  dollars ;  this  sum  he  turned  over  to  the  boy,  for 
whose  pitiable  plight  he  fell  himself  largely  responsible,  and  who 
was  thus  enabled  to  return  to  Leavenworth.  Bill  proceeded  to  the 
southwest,  and  learning  at  Springfield  that  Gen.  Curtis  was  still 
on  the  Arkansas  River,  reported  to  that  officer  for  duty. 

Curtis  was  extremely  anxious  to  find  out  what  Price  intended 


WILD  SILL.  489 

to  do,  suspecting  that  another  invasion  of  Missouri  was  intended. 
Wild  Bill  was  therefore  despatched,  for  the  third  time,  to  enter 
the  lines  and  obtain  as  much  information  as  possible.  Making 
the  usual  wide  circuit,  he  passed  through  to  Texarkana,  where  ne 
represented  himself  as  a  Texas  cattle-drover.  Thence  he  rode 
onward  to  Ouachita  County,  where  he  traded  his  horse  to  an  an- 
cient darkey  for  a  venerable  jack  and  a  dilapidated  suit  of 
clothes,  much  to  the  old  " uncle's"  astonishment  and  delight. 
Exchanging  his  gun  for  one  which  might  almost  serve  Jefferson 
when  Eip  awakes  from  his  long  sleep,  he  arrayed  himself  in  the 
baggy  butternut  trousers,  faded  to  a  dingy  yellow,  but  the  orig- 
inal color  of  which  was  attested  by  an  immense  old  patch  which 
"  old  auntie's  "  unskillful  needle  had  sewn  upon  one  knee ;  in  the 
blue  vest,  across  which  ran  broad  stripes  of  red ;  in  the  coat,  match- 
ing the  ground  of  the  vest  in  hue,  and  ornamented  with  large 
brass  buttons,  which  might  have  satisfied  the  ladies'  late  passion 
for  variety  in  such  articles,  since  no  two  were  alike.  The  clean- 
shaven face,  where  the  silky  moustache  had  drooped  in  solitary 
glory,  the  shining  locks  of  darker  hair,  were  no  longer  to  be  seen. 
A  rough  brown  mop  covered  the  well-set  head,  a  ragged  beard 
concealed  the  thin  and  sensitive  lips  and  the  firm  jaw.  The  sin- 
gular grace  and  dignity  of  carriage  which  made  his  six  feet  one 
appear  the  ideal  stature  for  a  hero,  was  discarded  for  the  shuffling 
gait  and  slouchy  manner  which  he  well  knew  how  to  assume. 
Under  such  a  disguise  as  this,  who  would  recognize  a  man  noted 
for  his  great  personal  beauty  ? 

His  appearance  and  manner,  and  his  offer  to  fight  as  desperate- 
ly as  a  certain  apocryphal  dog,  of  whose  exploits  he  told  long 
yarns,  if  only  they  would  furnish  him  ammunition,  created  consid- 
erable amusement  among  Price's  men,  who  promised  themselves 
rare  fun  with  this  green  recruit.  But  great  as  was  the  change 
in  his  appearance,  it  was  not  enough  to  conceal  him  from  the 
sharp  eyes  of  a  corporal,  who  had  known  him  in  the  days  of 
Jake  Lawson.  Whether  he  unconsciously  resumed  the  easy, 
graceful  bearing  which  was  his  by  nature,  or  some  other  circum- 
stance betrayed  that  he  was  not  what  he  pretended  to  be,  certain 
it  is  that  the  corporal's  suspicions  were  aroused,  and  then  confirm- 
ed ;  and  he  was  speedy  in  reporting  at  headquarters  that  Wild 
Bill,  the  Union  spy,  was  in  camp.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  lest 
the  fearless  scout,  so  valuable  to  the  enemy,  escape;  and  mili- 
tary law  condemned  him  to  be  executed  the  next  morning. 


490 


WILD   BILL. 


Night  came  on ;  in  a  small  log  hut  lay  the  condemned  man,  his 
arms  securely  pinioned,  and  his  every  movement  watched  by  an 
armed  guard,  lately  his  comrade.  But  Price  had  been  making 
forced  marches,  for  Curtis  was  after  him  with  twice  as  many  men 
as  in  his  army  •  and,  tired  out  with  the  long  day's  travel,  the 
guard  fell  asleep*  The  prisoner  was  bound  securely,  and  the 
slightest  movement  would  awaken  him  from  his  doze,  thought 
the  soldier.  Without,  the  wind  howled  and  shrieked,  the  rain 

fell  in  torrents ;  within,  the  pris- 
oner ruefully  thought  over  his 
condition,  saying  to  himself  how 
easy  it  would  be  to  escape  if 
his  hands  were  only  free.  But  as 
he  pulled  and  tugged  at  the 
cords  which  secured  them,  the 
knots  seemed  only  tightened; 
his  wrists  were  cruelly  abraded 
by  the  rough  rope.  A  sudden 
gleam  in  a  far  corner,  as  a 
flash  of  lightning  shows  him,  for 
a  moment,  the  whole  room  "with 
all  the  distinctness  of  day-light, 
and  stealthily  as  a  panther  he 
creeps  towards  it.  The  big  bon- 
anza is  an  old,  rusty  case-knife, 
of  which  only  a  portion  of  the  blade  remains.  The  handle  is  stuck 
in  the  auger-hole  in  which  the  blade  had  been  partly  hidden,  and 
he  patiently  saws  at  the  rope  about  his  wrists.  Back  and  forth, 
until  the  last  fiber  gives  way  ;  then,  his  hands  once  more  free,  he 
grasps  the  knife,  useless  for  the  purpose  of  thrusting,  and  with 
noiseless  step  approaches  the  door,  against  which  leans  the  sleep- 
ing guard.  The  knife  is  drawn  across  the  sentinel's  throat,  and 
from  vein  and  artery  gushes  the  life-blood.  Arraying  himself 
in  the  dead  man's  uniform,  and  arming  himself  with  the  musket 
that  has  fallen  from  the  lifeless  grasp,  he  makes  his  way,  through 
the  darkness  and  the  storm,  out  of  the  Confederate  lines  to  Cur- 
tis' camp. 

But  Wild  Bill  felt  that  he  was  too  well  known  in  the  Confed- 
erate army  west  of  the  Mississippi  to  make  another  such  attempt 
anything  but  suicidal,  and  though  he  continued  to  scout,  he  pos- 
itively refused  to  enter  the  enemy's  lines  again.  We  hear  of  no 


KILLING  THE   SLEEPING  SENTINEL. 


WILD  BILL*  491 

special  adventure  until  1864,  when  Price  invaded  Missouri  the 
second  time.  Wild  Bill  was  then  attached  to  the  command  of 
Gen.  Davis,  who  was  only  too  glad  to  secure  his  services. 

One  day  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  the  scout,  weary  of  long  in- 
action, started  out  on  an  independent  expedition.  Riding  quietly 
along,  he  came  suddenly  upon  three  men,  well-mounted  and 
armed. 

"  Dismount  and  surrender,"  cried  the  three  in  a  breath.  Then, 
seeing  a  momentary  hesitation  on  his  part,  they  put  their  hands 
to  their  pistols,  threatening  to  shoot  if  he  delayed  any  farther. 
Bill's  right  hand  had  hung  down  beside  his  horse,  unseen  by  the 
Rebels,  who  were  on  his  left;  it  grasped  his  revolver.  Quick  as 
thought  he  raised  it,  and  they  had  hardly  divined  his  intentions 
before  two  fell  dead,  the  third  wounded  mortally.  The  dying 
man,  nerving  himself  to  one  last  effort,  pulled  the  trigger  of  his 
pistol,  and  the  bullet  whistled  past  the  scout,  but  without  injur- 
ing him.  Bill  secured  the  three  horses,  and  led  them  back  to 
camp,  where  he  made  report  to  his  commander,  and  turned  over 
to  him  the  spoils  of  war.  G-en.  Davis,  suspecting  that  all  was 
not  right  about  the  horses,  said  to  him,  with  a  sternness  to  which 
Bill  was  unaccustomed  : 

"You  have  been  out  of  camp  for  four  days  without  leave; 
where  have  you  been,  and  where  did  you  get  those  horses?" 

"  I'm  not  a  private  soldier,  and  as  a  scout  I  go  where  I  please. 

I've  turned  the  horses  over  to  you,  and  it's  none  of  your  d d 

business  where  I  got  'em." 

This  answer  only  seemed  to  increase  the  officer's  suspicions 
that  the  horses  had  been  stolen,  and  was,  besides,  a  gross  breach 
of  discipline  in  its  disrespect  to  a  superior.  Bill  was  therefore 
sent  to  the  guard-house,  and  ordered  under  arrest  until  further 
notice.  We  may  imagine  the  general's  surprise  when,  on  mak- 
ing the  rounds  that  night,  to  personally  inspect  the  camp,  he  saw 
Wild  Bill  salute  him  with  the  most  respectful  gravity  that  one 
soldier  could  show  another.  Without  a  word  to  the  scout  he  rode 
directly  to  the  guard-house,  and  demanded  of  the  officer  on  duty 
there  why  his  men  had  let  Wild  Bill  escape. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sir,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  he  has  not  escaped. 
He  is  still  under  guard." 

"  Let  me  see  him  for  myself." 

But  in  Bill's  place  they  found  a  man  whose  term  of  arrest  had 
expired  that  evening,  and  who,  to  give  the  popular  scout  his  lib- 


492  WILD  felll. 

erty,  had  exchanged  clothes  with  him  and  allowed  him  thus  td 
escape  when  the  twilight  prevented  the  guards  from  detecting 
the  trick;  all  the  more  readily  deceived,  perhaps,  because  not 
unwillingly.  The  soldier's  devotion  was  not  without  its  reward, 
for,  touched  by  the  feeling  displayed,  Gen.  Davis  invited  both 
men  to  headquarters,  and  regaled  them  with  his  choicest  Cognac, 
kept  for  special  occasions.  Now  more  courteously  asked,  Bill 
told  all  the  circumstances  of  his  trip,  first  begging  pardon  for 
his  disrespect;  and  at  his  request,  he  was  permitted  to  retain,  for 
his  own  use,  one  of  the  animals.  This  steed,  a  beautiful  black 
mare,  evidently  of  full-blooded  stock,  became  famous  for  her  in- 
telligence and  docility  when  her  owner  rode  her,  though  she 
would  permit  no  one  else  to  back  her.  To  the  training  of  Black 
Nell  Bill  devoted  all  his  leisure  time,  and  felt  himself  richly  re- 
paid by  the  result  reached  in  a  short  time.  The  dropping  of  his 
hand  in  her  sight  was  sufficient  to  make  her  crouch  on  the 
ground,  and  not  stir  until  the  signal  was  given  to  rise  ;  pursued 
once  by  bushwhackers,  this  saved  his  life,  as  he  disappeared  from 
sight  in  the  long  grass  of  the  prairies,  and  the  puzzled  pursuers 
passed  him.  So  obedient  was  she,  that  he  once  induced  her  to 
mount  a  billiard  table  in  a  saloon  and  drink  a  quart  of  whiskey. 
This  happened  in  Springfield,  and  even  the  admiring  bystanders 
could  hardly  regret  that  the  good  liquor  should  be  bestowed  on 
such  a  horse. 

The  fact  that  many  Indians  were  employed  in  the  Confederate 
service,  created  some  alarm  in  Kansas,  where  it  was  reported 
that  these  savage  enemies  would  soon  attempt  a  massacre.  A 
Sioux  chief,  Conquering  Bear,  reported  to  Gen.  Curtis,  who  was 
now  at  Leavenworth,  that  the  Choctaws  were  arming,  and  would 
soon  be  upon  the  settlements.  By  Wild  Bill's  urgent  request,  he 
was  permitted  to  go,  unaccompanied  by  any  one  but  Conquering 
Bear,  to  investigate  the  state  of  affairs.  Proceeding,  then,  to  the 
Sioux  camp  near  Lawrence,  the  chief  protested  his  friendship  in 
the  strongest  terms.  Leaving  the  lodges  of  his  people,  they  had 
not  gone  far  when  he  uttered  a  peculiar  whoop  and  disappeared 
in  the  bushes.  Bill  immediately  found  himself  surrounded  by  a 
band  of  the  hostile  Choctaws,  who  rushed  upon  him  from  every 
side.  Only  the  darkness  and  the  wonderful  sagacity  of  Black 
JSTcll  saved  him,  and  by  giving  the  Choctaw  war-whoop  occasion- 
ally, and  hiding  in  the  long  grass,  he  succeeded  in  so  puzzling 
them  as  to  his  location  that  he  escaped  without  injury. 


WILD  BILL.  493 

Vowing  vengeance  upon  Conquering  Bear,  he  obtained,  on  re- 
porting to  G-en.  Curtis,  a  week's  leave  of  absence.  His  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Sioux  language  and  manners  enabled  him  to  find 
an  ally  in  a  young  warrior  of  that  tribe  whom  he  found  on  the 
streets  of  Lawrence.  Liberality  with  whisky  and  trinkets  ce- 
mented the  young  brave's  alliance  with  the  white  man,  and  by 
his  agency  Conquering  Bear  was  allured  to  a  lonely  spot  about 
three  miles  from  town,  the  promise  of  a  rich  reward  attracting 
the  chief.  "Without  any  suspicion  of  a  double  meaning  in  this 
expression,  the  Indian  came,  and  as  he  and  the  young  warrior 
paced  slowly  along,  Bill  sprang  from  his  hiding-place.  A  mo- 
ment they  eyed  each  other,  each  seeming  charmed  by  the  other's 
gaze,  as  if  two  rattlesnakes  should  yield  one  to  the  other;  but 
the  dead  silence  was  at  length  broken  by  Bill,  as  he  drew  his 
pistols  and  threw  one  to  the  savage  chief. 

"  Defend  yourself,  you  treacherous,  lying  red-skin." 

But  Conquering  Bear  knew  too  well  the  deadly  aim  of  his  an- 
tagonist, and  refused  to  fight  with  pistols.  An  effort  to  parley 
was  unavailing. 

"  If  you  don't  fight,  I'll  shoot  you  like  the  good-for  nothing 
dog  that  you  are,"  Bill  hissed  out  from  between  his  teeth,  and  the 
trembling  Indian  chose  the  bowie  as  the  weapon  to  be  used.  A 
level  spot  was  selected,  and  the  young  Sioux  instructed  to  pre- 
pare it  for  the  duel  by  clearing  it  of  leaves  and  twigs  inside  a  cir- 
cle ten  feet  in  diameter.  The  field  of  battle  was  prepared,  but 
Conquering  Bear  stood  motionless. 

"  If  you  don't  come  and  fight  I'll  shoot  you  dead  in  your 
tracks." 

Aroused  to  defense  by  the  threat,  he  leaped  into  the  ring,  knife 
in  hand,  and  the  fight  began.  As  the  white  man,  stepping  one 
foot  forward,  made  a  pass  with  the  long,  keen-edged  blade,  the 
Indian  drew  back  as  if  to  make  a  rush  at  him ;  now  with  a  tiger- 
ish thirst  for  blood  each  leaps  upon  the  other,  his  left  arm  clasp- 
ing his  antagonist's  body,  his  right  hand  holding  his  knife,  the 
two  blades  edge  to  edge.  So  they  cling  together,  each  striving 
to  secure  some  advantage,  however  trifling;  but  in  vain;  they  are 
too  evenly  matched  for  that,  and  as  the  tense  muscles,  that  have 
stood  out  in  great  ridges  on  the  white  and  the  dusky  body,  relax, 
they  rest  a  moment.  The  gray  eyes  gleam  like  steel  as  they 
turn  with  every  movement  of  the  savage,  and  the  dark  orbs  of 
the  Indian  are  no  less  watchful.  Ten  minutes  pass,  and  Conquer- 


494 


WILD   BILL. 


ing  Bear  again  springs  forward.  Wild  Bill  is  not  unready  for  the  at- 
tack, and  once  more  the  two  broad 'and  shining  blades  clash  and 
flash  in  the  sun-light.  Both  saw  that  the  grasp  with  which  they 
had  held  each  other  would  mean  certain  death  to  the  weaker,  and 
each  distrusted  his  own  muscular  power  as  contrasted  with  that 
of  his  assailant,  so  that  both  avoided  the  method  first  adopted, 
and  by  vigorous  passes  endeavored  to  surprise  his  antagonist. 

For  some  time  each  was 
on  his  guard,  so  that  the 
passes  of  his  enemy  were 
in  vain;  at  last  Bill  sees 
his  opportunity,  and 
cuts  at  the  Indian's  heart; 
but  a  medal  on  the  broad, 
tawny  breast  received  the 
blow,  and  the  knife  glanc- 
ed aside,  though  not  with- 
out inflicting  a  gash  sev- 
eral inches  long  in  the 
chiefs  side.  But  the  thrust, 
so  nearly  successful,  has 
exposed  his  own  body, 
and  the  savage  makes  a 
desperate  lunge  at  his  an- 
tagonist's heart.  The 
scout's  left  arm,  however, 

CONQUERING  BEAR.  has  served  as  a  shield  for 

the  more  vital  part,  and  the  flesh  is  stripped  from  the  bone,  from 
the  shoulder  half-way  to  the  elbow.  Still  they  fouglvt  on,  though 
both  grew  weaker  and  weaker  every  moment,  as  the  blood  flowed 
from  these  terrible  wounds  to  the  ground.  Conquering  Bear 
saw  that  victory  must  come  quickly  if  it  precede  death,  and 
once  more  made  a  pass  at  the  scout's  heart;  but  the  blow  was 
skillfully  parried,  and  in  another  instant  the  keen  edge  of  the 
white  man's  knife  was  drawn  across  the  tawny  throat;  for  a  mom- 
ent the  swarthy  form  swayed  in  the  air,  the  head  thrown  back- 
ward, then  fell  to  the  earth,  the  blood  gushing  from  the  ghastly 
wound. 

The  young  Sioux  bound  up  Wild  Bill's  arm,  and  they  proceed- 
ed to  Lawrence,  where  more  skillful  surgical  aid  was  obtained ;  but 
for  many  a  year  he  felt  the  consequences  of  the  terrible  gash. 


WILD   BILL.  495 

Through  the  next  year  or  two  we  need  not  follow  him,  since  the 
period  was  marked  by  no  adventure  of  interest.  Peacefully  trap- 
ping among  the  Sioux  on  the  Niobrara,  the  young  warrior  who 
had  been  with  him  when  he  fought  Conquering  Bear  was  his  con- 
stant companion;  while  this  friend's  sister,  the  ideal  Indian  mai- 
den, pure  and  beautiful,  was  untiring  in  her  devotion  to  the 
handsome  white  stranger.  Returning  to  the  states,  Bill  went 
directly  to  Springfield,  Mo.,  then  (1866)  noted  for  its  gambling 
dens  and  gamblers.  Our  hero  was  by  no  means  averse  to  this 
amusement  or  occupation,  whichever  it  may  be  termed,  and  threw 
himself,  heart  and  soul,  into  the  popular  diversion.  This  town, 
never  noted  as  particularly  quiet,  was  then  the  rendezvous  for 
the  most  desperate  of  those  Missourians  who  had  been  in  either 
army.  Ultra-loyalty  was  the  guiding  principle  of  the  Regulators, 
a  band  of  men  in  the  service  of  the  state,  but  paid  out  of  the 
national  treasury,  who  had  adopted  as  their  war-cry:  " A  swift 
bullet  and  a  short  rope  for  returned  Rebels  !"  This  feeling  was 
doubtless  in  consequence  of  the  severity  which,  in  the  early  days 
of  the  war,  the  "  Southern  sympathizers"  had  treated  all  who 
seemed  at  all  loyally  disposed.  It  was  the  old  story  of  every 
war:  the  non-combatants  "  nursing  their  wrath  to  keep  it  warm;" 
the  real  fighters  brave  and  determined  soldiers,  but  ready  to  ac- 
cept peace  as  better  than  war. 

"When  the  war  closed  I  buried  the  hatchet/'  said  our  hero, 
"and  I  won't  fight  now  unless  I'm  put  upon." 

It  may  be  readily  guessed  from  this  that  he  was  not  a  Regula- 
tor, but  one  of  the  law  and  order  party. 

Among  the  denizens  of  Springfield  was  a  certain  Dave  Tutt, 
who  had  been  a  Rebel  scout.  Bill  had  killed  Dave's  mate,  and 
there  was  no  love  lost  between  them.  Dave  had  tried  for  some 
time  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  Bill,  but  with  a  laudable  anxiety  to 
keep  out  of  a  fight,  our  hero  had  rather  avoided  him;  especially 
by  refusing  to  play  cards  with  him,  since  he  well  knew  how  easily 
a  difficulty  could  be  raised  in  such  a  case.  One  night,  as  Bill  was 
sitting  in  the  saloon  which  both  were  accustomed  to  frequent, 
playing  poker  with  an  acquaintance  of  both,  he  took  out  his 
watch,  and  laying  it  on  the  table,  said : 

"  I'll  play  you  a  twenty-five  dollar  limit  until  one  of  us  is  broke, 
or  until  twelve  o'clock.  I  can't  play  any  later  than  that." 

His  antagonist  agreed  to  this,  and  according  to  one  of  the  pro- 
posed conditions,  the  game  would  have  come  to  an  end  very  soon, 


496 


WILD    BILL. 


as  Bill,  in  a  very  short  time,  completely  cleaned  him  out;  but  Tutt 
stood  behind  the  loser,  and  lent  him  money  to  continue  the  game. 
More  than  two  hundred  dollars  had  changed  hands  in  this  way, 
\  when  Tutt,  exasperated  by  the  ill  luck  of  the  man  he  had  been 
backing,  said : 

"Bill,  you've  got  plenty  of  money, — pay  me  that  forty  dollars 
yer  owe  me  in  that  horse  trade." 

Bill  handed  out  the  bills,  and  Tutt  continued,  in  an  insulting 
manner : 


SPOILING  FOR  A  FIGHT. 


"Yer  owe  me  thirty-five  dollars  more;  yer  lost  itplayin'  with 
me  t'other  night,  don't  yer  remember?" 

"I  think  yer  wrong,  Dave,"  answered  Bill,  quietly;  "it's  only 
twenty-five  dollars.  Yer  saw  me  set  down  how  much  I  overbet, 
and  here's  the  figgers  for  it." 

Dave  answered  not  a  word,  until  he  had  possessed  himself  of 
Bill's  watch ;  then ; 


WILD    BILL.  497 

"  I'll  keep  this  here  watch  until  yer  pay  me  that  thirty-five 
dollars/' 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  a  row  here/'  said  Bill,  in  a  low,  deter- 
mined voice;  "it's  a  decent  house,  and  I  don't  want  to  injure  the 
keeper.  You'd  better  put  that  watch  back  on  the  table." 

With  an  ugly  grin,  Tutt  put  the  watch  in  his  pocket  and  walk- 
ed off  without  a  word.  The  scout's  face  was  white  with  rage,  but 
by  a  strong  effort  he  controlled  himself,  and  not  all  the  persua- 
sions of  the  bystanders  could  induce  him  to  fight.  For  two  days 
he  kept  close  in  his  room,  anxious  to  keep  put  of  a  fight  if  it  were 
at  all  possible  ;  but  when  one  of  them  said  to  him  : 

"Dave  Tutt  says  he's  a  goin'  ter  pack  that  watch  across  the 
squar'  at  noon  ter-morrer,  and  tell  folks  when  its' twelve  o'clock." 

Human  nature  could  bear  it  no  longer. 

"Dave  Tutt  shan't  pack  that  watch  across  the  square  unless 
dead  men  kin  walk." 

A  little  before  noon,  the  next  day,  having  cleaned  and  loaded 
his  pistols,  Bill  made  his  way  to  the  public  square,  where  he 
found  a  considerable  crowd  of  Tutt's  friends  and  relatives.  Many 
and  loud  were  the  jeers  with  which  they  saluted  him,  but  Bill 
had  not  come  to  exchange  words  with  them.  As  he  came  up 
from  the  south,  he  saw  Tutt  standing  on  the  west  side,  near  the 
courthouse.  Unaccompanied,  Dave  started  across  the  open  space, 
and  Bill  moved  towards  him.  Tutt  then  showed  his  pistol,  but 
before  he  could  point  it,  Bill  was  equally  well  prepared.  Dead 
silence  reigned,  as  the  bystanders  breathlessly  waited  to  see 
which  would  shoot  first.  Both  were  famous  shots,  and  the  two 
reports  were  so  close  together  that  the  spectators  could  not  tell 
which  fired  first;  but  when  they  saw  Tutt  reel  and  fall,  they 
knew  that  he  had,  in  dying,  thrown  up  his  arm  so  that  his  bullet 
went  over  his  antagonist's  head,  and  that  Bill  had  fired  before 
Dave  had  pulled  the  trigger. 

But,  confident  of  his  marksmanship,  Wild  Bill  did  not  wait  to 
see  the  effect  of  his  shot.  Wheeling  around,  with  his  revolver 
still  leveled,  he  said  to  Tutt's  friends,  who  had  already  drawn 
their  weapons  : 

"  Ain't  you  satisfied,  gentlemen  ?  Put  up  yer  shootin'  irons,  or 
there'll  be  more  dead  men  here." 

"  It  war  a  fair  fight,"  they  said,  as  they  obediently  "  put  up 
their  shootin'  irons." 

With  a  most  praiseworthy  desire  for  justice.  Bill  delivered  hin> 


498 


WILD    BILL. 


self  up  to  the  law ;  he  was  tried  the  next  day,  and  acquitted, 
since  he  had  acted  in  self-defense.  The  decision  of  the  jury  was 
based  rather  upon  the  golden  rule  than  upon  any  legal  form  or 
precedent,  but  like  many  of  the  same  kind,  it  gave  entire  satis- 
faction to  all  concerned. 

Leaving  Springfield  shortly  after  this,  Wild  Bill  again  went  to 
trapping  in  Nebraska,  but  only  for  a  brief  period.  Having  little 
luck  where  he  first  tried  for  beaver,  he  determined  to  change  his 


"AIN'T  YOU  SATISFIED. 


location,  and  on  his  way  to  the  southeastern  portion  of  the  ter- 
ritory, as  it  was  then,  hitched  his  horse  before  a  country  saloon, 
went  in  and  called  for  a  drink.  With  an  expression  of  curiosity 
on  his  face,  the  saloon-keeper  set  out  the  black  bottle  and  the 
glass,  which  Bill  proceeded  to  use.  As  he  raised  the  glass  to  his 
lips,  a  sudden  push  in  the  back  splashed  the  liquor  into  his  face, 
and  sent  him  staggering  against  the  counter.  One  of  the  half- 
dozen  herders,  all  half-drunk,  had  taken  this  means  to  express 
their  resentment  at  the  stranger's  lack  of  courtesy  in  drinking  by 
himself,  when  he  might  have  company  for  the  asking.  A  well- 
directed  blow,  planted  full  between  the  eyes,  sent  the  herder 
reeling  backward  over  the  boxes  on  which  he  and  his  compan- 


WILD    BILL  499 

ions  had  been  lounging.  Turning  to  the  other  herders,  Bill  en- 
deavored to  convince  them  that  this  was,a  perfectly  proper  mode 
of  proceeding,  but  they  would  not  listen  to  him. 

"If  yer  don't  believe  me,  then,  I  tell  yer  what  I'll  do.  I'll 
fight  any  four  of  yer  with  pistols  at  five  or  fifteen  paces,  just  as 
you  like." 

"All  right,"  answered  the  men,  sobering  up  at  the  prospect 
of  a  fight.  The  bar-keeper  was  chosen  umpire,  the  distance — fif- 
teen paces — marked  off,  and  the  combatants  posted. 

"  Air  ye  all  ready  ?     One,  two,  three — fire  1" 

As  the  sound  of  the  last  word  died  away,  one  man  fell  dead, 
but  a  ball  had  pierced  Bill's  right  shoulder,  so  that  that  arm  fell, 
limp  and  useless,  to  his  side;  but  using  his  left  hand  with  as 
much  dexterity  as  his  right,  he  fired  three  shots  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, each  one  taking  effect.  Only  one  of  his  antagonists  surviv- 
ed, and  he  was  badly  wounded.  Bill  set  out  on  the  same  day 
towards  Kansas  City,  judging  that  that  was  not  a  wholesome 
neighborhood  for  him;  and  remained  at  that  place  until  his 
wound  was  so  far  healed  that  he  was  able  to  accompany  an  ex- 
pedition against  the  Cheyennes  under  Black  Kettle.  Gens.  Carr 
and  Primrose  were  the  commanders  of  the  two  forces,  Wild  Bill 
and  Buffalo  Bill  being  each  chief  of  scouts  in  a  division.  Hotly 
pursued  for  more  than  a  month,  the  Indians  were  at  last  brought 
to  bay  on  the  north  side  of  the  Washita,  in  Indian  Territory, 
where  they  had  placed  themselves  in  such  a  strong  position  that 
the  most  desperate  fighting  was  required  to  dislodge  them.  But 
a  charge  from  both  front  and  rear  at  once  drove  them  out  of  the 
woods,  and  though  the  advantage  had  only  been  gained  with 
great  loss  to  the  troops,  the  yells  of  the  soldiers  seemed  to  say 
that  they  did  not  intend  to  stop  fighting  until  the  Indians  were 
defeated.  The  two  scouts,  both  famous  for  their  marksmanship, 
did  good  execution  upon  the  Indians  fleeing  from  covert  to 
covert.  With  reckless  courage  they  charged  into  the  midst  of 
the  hostiles,  firing  with  deadly  effect  as  they  rode. 

The  Cheyenne  chief  saw  his  warriors  falling  thick  around  him, 
and  knew  there  was  no  hope  of  victory.  The  Indian  lacks  the 
stubborn  courage  of  the  white  man;  the  savage  seldom,  if  ever, 
fights  as  Custer  and  his  men  fought  on  the  Little  Big  Horn;  and 
now  Black  Kettle  turned  and  fled  for  his  life.  After  him,  regard- 
less alike  of  tomahawks,  spears  and  rifles,  rode  Wild  Bill.  Black 
^  ell  shows  her  mettle  ;  up  to  the  chief's  side  rides  the  scout,  and 
32 


500  WILD   felLL. 

into  the  chief's  heart  is  plunged  his  knife.  But  a  spear  has 
pierced  his  hip,  and  he  js  almost  unhorsed;  only  the  timely  as- 
sistance of  his  friend  and  brother  scout,  Buffalo  Bill,  saves  him 
from  the  certain  death  which  stares  him  in  the  face.  He  had 
hoped  to  secure  the  chief 's  scalp,  but  it  is  impossible;  the  poi- 
soned spear  has  made  so  painful  and  dangerous  a  wound  that  he 
must  be  taken  back  to  Fort  Hays  in  an  ambulance. 

Still  suffering  from  the  two  old  wounds  that  he  had  received  in 
his  fight  with  Conquering  Bear  and  in  the  Nebraska  duel,  Bill 
concluded  to  return  to  his  old  home  in  Illinois  for  a  visit.  On 
this  scene  we  draw  the  curtain  ;  the  mother's  welcome  of  the  son 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  fourteen  years,  who  had  in  that  time 
encountered  so  many  dangers  —  on  this,  strangers  have  no  right 
to  look.  His  fight  at  Chicago  with  a  band  of  seven  roughs  we 
omit  for  a  different  reason  ;  it  presents  no  points  of  special  inter- 
est beyond  the  fact  that  while,  before  the  fight,  they  were  ex- 
tremely curious  to  know  the  antecedents  of"  Leather-breeches/' 
when  .he  had  gotten  hold  of  a  billiard-cue  they  were  perfectly 
satisfied  with  what  they  had  learned  of  the  man  himself;  at  least, 
they  did  not  ask  him  any  more  questions. 

The  fact  that  he  received  and  accepted  an  invitation  to  act  as 
guide  to  Yice-President  Wilson  and  his  party,  in  their  trip  to  the 
far  west,  shows  conclusively  how  wide-spread  was  his  reputation ; 
but  what  were  adventures  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  that 
party,  were  incidents  of  every-day  life  to  Wild  Bill,  and  it  is  not 
until  his  return  to  Hays  City  that  we  find  characteristic  events 
recorded  of  him.  Here,  in  this  frontier  town  of  nearly  two  thou 
sand  inhabitants,  where  there  were  nearly  a  hundred  gambling 
dens,  and  the  saloons  were  innumerable,  fights,  often  terminating 
fatally,  were  of  such  every-day  occurrence  that  the  people  de- 
cided that  they  must  have  a  marshal  to  regulate  affairs.  It  was 
hardly  necessary  to  determine  that  it  must  be  a  man  with  a  rep- 
utation to  fill  the  position,  and  "Wild  Bill's  qualifications  being 
esteemed  the  most  satisfactory,  he  was  elected  to  the  office  in 
September,  1869. 

"I  kin  clean  out  Hays  City,  and  its  marshal,  too/'  boasted  one 
Jack  Strawhan,  whom  Wild  Bill  had  once  assisted  in  arresting. 
"  I'll  git  even  with  that  feller  yit." 

These  threats  were  duly  reported  to  Bill,  and  he  was  not  un- 
prepared, when,  some  six  weeks  after  his  election,  he  saw  Straw- 
han enter  the  saloon  in  which  he  was  drinking  with  a  party  of 


WILD   BILL.  501 

friends.  The  desperado  strolled  up  towards  the  bar  with  as  much 
indifference  as  he  could  put  into  his  mariner,  and  was  within  ten 
feet  of  Bill,  when,  thinking  himself  unnoticed,  he  drew  a  heavy 
navy.  But  Bill's  sharp  eyes  had  not  lost  a  single  movement,  and 
almost  before  the  revolver  was  cocked,  a  bullet  went  crashing 
through  his  skull  to  his  brain. 

"  Come  up,  boys,  let's  all  take  a  drink,"  said  the  marshal,  turn- 
ing coolly  to  the  bar  again,  and  the  coroner's  jury,  that  very  day, 
returned  a  verdict  of  "  served  him  right." 

Akin  to  this  was  the  case  of  the  bully  who  wanted  to  run  Hays 
City.  One  part  of  the  town,  dismayed  at  the  spectacle  of  a  half- 
drunken  man  flourishing  two  pistols,  had  consented  to  be  "  run," 
but  one  thoughtful  individual  went  to  find  the  marshal.  That  of- 
ficial, in  defiance  of  the  laws  which  appear  to  govern  all  conser- 
vators of  the  peace,  was  easily  found,  and  readily  obeyed  the 
summons.  As  Mulvey,  the  desperado,  went  yelling  through  the 
streets,  pointing  his  pistols  at  all  who  were  not  sufficiently  re- 
spectful, he  was  approached  by  Wild  Bill,  and  heard  his  quiet 
tones  saying: 

"  Stranger,  I  shall  have  to  arrest  you  for  disturbing  the  peace. 
Come  with  me." 

"Well,  now,  stranger,  suppose  you  come  with  me.  I  reckon  I've 
got  the  winning  hand." 

"That's  so,"  answered  Bill,  ruefully,  as  he  looked  into  the 
muzzles  of  the  two  pistols,  "  I  can't  beat  that  pair." 

"No,  I  reckon  you  can't,  and  since  you  are  so  fresh  it  will  be 
a  good  thing  for  me  to  hang  you  up  to  dry.  March  1" 

"  Don't  hit  him,  boys,  he's  only  in  fun/'  said  Bill,  as  if  to  dep- 
recate an  attack  on  Mulvey  from  the  rear.  The  desperado  turn- 
ed to  see  the  "  boys  "  who  were  not  there,  and  fell  dead  as  a  bul- 
let from  Bill's  pistol  went  home  to  his  brain.  So  detestable  had 
Mulvey  rendered  himself  that  the  citizens  would  hold  no  inquest 
over  his  remains.  No  honor  could  be  too  great  for  the  man  who 
had  rid  the  town  of  two  such  characters  as  Strawhan  and  Mulvey, 
and  Bill  met  with  thanks  on  every  side  for  thus  securing  peace 
to  the  town.  His  duties  were  easy  for  some  months  after  this 
occurrence. 

The  chief  trouble  came  from  the  soldiers,  who  were  stationed 
about  a  mile  from  Hays  City,  and  who  did  not  regard  themselves 
as  amenable  to  civil  law.  Wild  Bill  had  arrested  several  of  the 
worst  cases,  at  different  times,  and  had  thus  aroused  their  bitter- 


502  WILD  BILL. 

est  enmity.  It  was  in  February,  1870,  that  he  said  to  a  big  ser- 
geant, who  was  becoming  uproarious,  just  what  he  had  said  to 
the  desperado  Mulvey. 

"How  much  do  you  weigh,  Mr.  Long-Hair ?"  asked  the  sol- 
dier, astonished  at  his  "  cheek." 

"  A  hundred  and  sixty-five  when  I'm  in  a  good  humor,"  re- 
plied Bill,  "  but  my  fighting  size  is  something  more  than  a  ton ; 
you  come  along  with  me." 


WILD   BILL'S   FIGHT   WITH   FIFTEEN  SOLDIERS. 

"  I  won't  go  with  you  now,"  answered  the  sergeant,  "  but  I'll 
fight  you  in  front  of  this  saloon ;  and  if  you  whip  me,  Til  go  with 
you  5  and  if  I  whip  you,  you'll  come  with  me." 

"Fight,  fight,  let  'em  fight?  A  fair  fight,  now,"  broke  in  a 
chorus  of  a  dozen  soldiers.  There  was  no  getting  out  of  it;  in 
spite  of  his  peaceful  propensities  Wild  Bill  must  yield  to  the  ma- 
jority. All  weapons  were  left  in  charge  of  the  saloon-keeper, 
and  the  fistic  encounter  began.  But  while  the  soldiers  had  been 
so  anxious  to  have  the  fight  begin,  when  they  saw  how  it  went 
on,  they  were  equally  anxious  to  end  it.  Fourteen  of  them  came 
to  the  rescue  of  their  officer,  and  it  might  have  fared  worse  for 
Bill  had  not  the  saloon-keeper,  seeing  the  immense  odds  against 


WILD   BILL.  503 

his  friend,  gathered  up  Bill's  pistols  and,  at  great  risk  to  himself, 
pushed  through  the  crowd  with  them.  One  of  the  soldiers  went 
down  at  the  first  shot. 

"Look  out!"  cried  the  crowd  around  them,  "  he's  got  a  pistol." 

It  was  a  totally  unnecessary  warning,  for  before  the  words 
were  well  uttered,  two  more  fell.  The  remaining  soldiers  drew 
their  pistols,  and  as  Bill  retreated,  firing  as  he  went,  seven  balls 
struck  him.  Smoky  Eiver  was  the  bar  of  safety  which  he  had  at 
last  placed  between  himself  and  his  pursuers,  and  after  swim- 
ming this  he  dragged  himself  painfully  onward. 

Secreting  himself  in  a  buffalo  wallow,  he  tore  up  part  of  his 
clothes  to  bandage  his  wounds.  Exposed  to  the  bitter  cold,  he 
lay  here  for  two  days,  suffering  the  most  intense  agony  from  his 
fevered  wounds  ;  then,  weak  from  loss  of  blood  and  fasting,  he 
tore  loose  the  bandages,  now  frozen  stiff,  from  the  ground  to 
which  they  had  stuck,  and  wrapping  his  feet,  from  which  he  had 
been  obliged  to  cut  his  boots,  in  his  undershirt,  with  slow  and 
painful  steps  toiled  onward  to  the  ranche  of  a  friend.  Knocking 
at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  it  was  with  a  troubled  face  that  his  host 
received  him,  for  but  little  could  be  done.  Not  knowing  that  he 
had  been  wounded,  Gen.  Sheridan  had  issued  an  order  to  bring 
in  the  marshal,  dead  or  alive ;  it  was  supposed  that  a  long  chase 
would  be  necessary,  and  they  had  not  thought  of  searching  for 
him  so  near  home.  For  three  weeks  he  lay  in  the  loft  of  the 
little  cabin,  tenderly  cared  for,  and  entirely  unsuspected  of  being 
in  the  neighborhood.  "When  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  to 
travel,  he  went  in  a  box-car  to  Junction  City,  and  remained 
there  until  he  had  completely  recovered. 

The  western  climate  had  proved  unhealthful  to  him,  and  when 
his  wounds  were  healed,  Bill  determined  to  go  east.  Some  occu- 
pation was  necessary,  and  he  determined  to  take  to  Niagara 
Falls  a  number  of  Buffalo,  and  some  Comanche  Indians,  that  the 
visitors  there  might  be  entertained,  and  he  be  enriched  by  a  buf- 
falo hunt  such  as,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  could  be  seen 
only  on  the  plains.  The  work  of  catching  the  huge  wild  animals 
proved  more  difficult  than  he  had  expected,  but  at  last  six  were 
secured,  and  four  Comanches  employed ;  one  of  them  being  the  pos- 
sessor of  a  tame  cinnamon  bear,  and  another  of  a  monkey,  which 
were  added  to  the  menagerie.  Trusting  that  the  voluntary  con- 
tributions of  the  crowd  would  be  amply  sufficient,  he  built  only 
a  slight  fence  around  the  ground  where  the  mock  hunt  was  to 


504  WILD    BILL. 

take  place  ;  but  the  expense  exceeded  the  receipts  by  more  than 
a  thousand  dollars,  and  after  having  spent  all  the  money  he  had 
in  preparation,  he  was  obliged  to  sell  out  to  pay  his  hotel  bill. 

Returning  to  the  West,  and  stopping  at  Abilene,  Kansas,  he  was 
agreeably  surprised  when  they  proposed  to  appoint  him  marshal, 
for  some  source  of  income  was  necessary;  his  buffalo  venture 
had  left  him  dead  broke.  Abilene  was,  if  anything,  worse  than 
Hays  City  had  been  when  Bill  first  entered  upon  the  same  office 
there.  Being  the  central  point  from  which  the  cattle  raised  in  the 
Southwest  were  shipped,  the  herders  were  about  the  worst  class 
of  visitors  that  ever  afflicted  a  town.  Within  two  days,  Bill  had 
signalized  his  appointment  by  killing  a  desperado  who  was  mak- 
ing things  extremely  lively  j  and  a  chance  shot  from  Bill  killed 
his  own  deputy.  The  companion  of  the  first  desperado  also  pro- 
voked his  own  death  by  an  endeavor  to  avenge  his  friend.  Af- 
ter this  triple  tragedy  there  was  comparative  quiet  in  Abilene  for 
several  weeks. 

But  peace  was  impossible  in  such  a  place,  and  late  in  Decem- 
ber, 1870,  there  was  an  extensive  riot,  in  which,  as  usual,  Bill 
came  off  victor.  But  so  enraged  was  one  man  at  the  bodily  in- 
juries that  had  been  inflicted  upon  him  that  he  swore  he  would 
have  Wild  Bill's  heart.  Beturning  to  his  Texas  ranche,  he  called 
a  council  of  eight  men  whom  he  knew  were  well  fitted  for  his 
purpose,  and  giving  each  one  fifty  dollars  to  pay  expenses  to 
Abilene,  promised  to  divide  five  thousand  dollars  among  them 
when  any  of  their  number  should  have  killed  Wild  Bill  and 
brought  his  heart  to  the  Texan  as  proof.  In  high  feather  they 
started  out,  but  being  in  possession  of  so  much  more  money  than 
any  of  them  had  ever  had  before,  perhaps,  they  got  gloriously 
drunk  before  they  had  been  two  hours  in  Abilene.  With  all  the 
self-importance  of  a  tipsy  rough,  one  of  them  boasted  that  they 
had  come  on  important  business. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  a  loafer. 

But  the  rough  only  shook  his  head  with  drunken  gravity.  The 
crowd  caught  up  the  question,  and  pressed  him  hard,  until,  un- 
able to  longer  contain  himself,  he  burst  out  with: 

"  We're  a'goin'  to  shoot  Wild  Bill  and  take  his  heart  to  Texas, 
for  his  d — d  interference  with  folks  he  ought  ter  let  alone." 

Bill  had  no  lack  of  friends  in  Abilene,  one  of  whom  lost  no  time 
in  telling  him  what  the  Texan  had  said.  Bill's  resolution  was 
immediately  taken. 


WILD    BILL.  505 

"  Gro  back  to  the  crowd  and  tell  them,  quiet  like,  so's  not  to 
make  'em  suspect  anything,  that  I'm  a  goin'  down  ter  Topeka  by 
the  nine  o'clock  express,  to  git  some  new  pistols,  for  mine  ain't 
any  account;  they're  worn  out,  I  reckon." 

The  information  was  conveyed  to  the  party,  and  they  took  the 
hint.  Sobering  up  as  rapidly  as  possible,  they  laid  their  plans. 
Bill  was  fond  of  cards,  and  could  be  readily  induced  to  pass  from 
one  car  to  another  in  order  to  join  in  a  game  with  one  of  them; 
lurking  enemies  on  the  platform;  a  sudden  stab  in  the  darkness; 
a  body  thrown  from  the  train  as  it  rushed  by;  eight  men  leaving 
the  car  at  the  next  station,  and  returning  through  the  darkness 
of  the  winter  night  to  complete  their  hellish  work,  unwitnessed 
by  mortal  eye.  But  Bill  was  on  his  guard.  About  ten  or  eleven 
o'clock,  he  left  the  car  in  which  he  was  sitting,  and  with  a  pistol 
in  each  hand,  went  to  that  in  which  he  knew  he  would  find  his 
would-be  assassins.  Satisfying  himself  of  their  exact  position, 
he  threv,r  open  the  door  and  walked  up  the  aisle  towards  them. 
Covering  the  gang  with  his  pistols,  he  said  : 

"  Now5  you  scoundrels,  get  out  of  this  car,  or  I'll  put  a  bullet 
in  each  of  you.  Leave  the  train  instantly." 

His  tone  was  so  quiet  that  it  would,  of  itself,  have  attracted  no 
attention  from  bystanders,  but  they  saw  shoot  in  his  eyes,  and 
prudently  retreated  backward  to  the  door  of  the  oar. 

"Jump,"  he  commanded,  as  they  hesitated  a  moment  on  the 
platform,  and  the  muzzles  gleamed  ominously  in  the  flickering 
light  from  the  next  car.  The  train  was  rushing  over  the  level 
prairie  at  a  fearful  rate,  but  certain  death  awaited  them  here, 
while  that  might  give  each  a  chanco  for  life.  Into  the  darkness, 
then,  each  man  leaped  as  the  train  sped  onward ;  one  was  killed 
outright,  three  badly  hurt  by  the  fall ;  but  if  they  had  not  jumped, 
there  would  have  been  none  that  escaped. 

But  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  follow  him  farther  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  time  that  he  was  in  Abilene,  or  when  he  became 
United  States  marshal  of  Hays  City.  His  name  was  so  well 
known  that  in  most  cases  the  statement  that  Wild  Bill  was  com- 
ing, was  enough  to  quiet  a  row  at  once.  If  the  quarrel  was  not 
stopped,  he  would  say,  on  coming  up : 

"  See  here,  boys,  this  has  gone  far  enough  now." 

If  an  unusually  desperate  ruffian  still  manifested  a  desire  for 
more  fight,  the  soft  tones  would  again  be  heard  : 

"If  you  want  any  more,  here  I  am.  You  can  settle  with  me." 


506  WILD    BILL. 

But  the  invitation  was  seldom  accepted.  A  man  who  shot  so 
quickly  and  well  as  Wild  Bill  was  most  thoroughly  respected, 
even  in  that  wild  western  town. 

Joining  the  Buffalo  Bill  combination  in  1873-4,  stage-fright,  at 
first,  was  a  serious  drawback  to  success,  but  in  one  of  his  earliest 
performances  he  made  a  decided  hit.  Buffalo  Bill,  Texas  Jack 
and  Wild  Bill  were,  in  one  scene,  represented  as  sitting  around 
a  camp-fire,  telling  stories;  at  the  end  of  each  adventure  related, 
the  bottle  was  duly  passed,  but  Wild  Bill  failed  to  comprehend 
the  necessity  for  "property"  whiskey.  Taking  a  drink,  he  said, 
with  great  indignation,  in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard  all  over 
the  house: 

"You  must  think  that  I  am  the  worst  fool  east  of  the  Rockies, 
that  I  can't  tell  whiskey  from  cold  tea.  This  don't  count,  and  I 
can't  tell  a  story  unless  I  get  real  whiskey." 

The  building  shook  with  the  plaudits  of  the  audience,  and  when 
Buffalo  Bill  had  procured  some  "real  whiskey,"  the  play  went 
on  with  a  first-class  story  that  Wild  Bill  related.  This  was  only 
one  instance  of  his  disregard  of  stage  conventionalities ;  another 
was  his  mischievous  practice  of  firing  so  close  at  the  "  Indians" 
that  the  poor  supes  were  nearly  frightened  to  death.  Reproved 
by  Buffalo  Bill  for  this,  he  exchanged  his  stage  suit  of  buckskin 
for  his  ordinary  street  dress,  and  walked  out  of  the  theater, 
leaving  the  stage  carpenter  to  inform  the  principal  actor  that 
"the  long-haired  gentleman  that  just  went  out  told  me  to  give 
you  his  respects  and  tell  you  to  go  to  thunder  with  your  old 
show."  His  second  appearance  on  the  stage  was  due  to  an  un- 
successful attempt  upon  a  faro  bank  in  New  York,  but  the  "  Wild 
Bill  Combination"  was  not  of  long  life. 

Returning  to  the  West,  he  went  to  Kansas  City,  thence  to 
Cheyenne,  where  he  remained  a  short  time,  but  soon  decided  to 
go  to  mining  in  the  Black  Hills,  where  gold  had  been  recently 
discovered;  a  treasure  soon  to  be  bought  with  blood  from  the 
Sioux  and  Blackfeet.  Encamping  with  two  companions  in  this 
debatable  land,  he  one  day  went  to  the  creek,  about  a  hundred 
yards  away,  for  a  supply  of  water.  Stooping  to  dip  the  water 
from  a  hole  in  the  ice,  he  spied,  trotting  up  the  creek,  a  silver 
fox,  the  skin  of  which  was  worth  fifty  or  sixty  dollars.  This  was 
too  valuable  a  chance  to  be  lightly  thrown  away,  and  drawing 
his  pistol  from  his  belt,  he  started  in  pursuit.  But  quick  as  he 
was,  the  fox,  darting  from  cover  to  cover,  eluded  him  for  many  a 


WILD   BILL.  507 

weary  mile,  and  at  last  escaped  him  in  the  darkness.  Eetracing 
his  steps  when  he  saw  there  was  no  hope  of  success,  he  heard,  as 
he  approached  the  camp,  a  terrible  sound — the  war-cry  of  the 
Sioux.  Creeping  cautiously  nearer,  he  saw  the  whole  scene  by 
the  light  of  the  flames  that  consumed  the  cabin;  fifteen  or  twen- 
ty Indians,  reveling  in  the  possession  of  the  keg  of  whiskey 
which  formed  an  important  part  of  the  miners'  outfit,  while  the 
belts  of  two  were  decorated  each  with  a  fresh  scalp,  reeking 
with  blood  ;  the  bodies  of  his  companions  were  probably  con- 
sumed in  the  cabin. 

Knowing  that  he  would  not  be  safe  anywhere  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, he  fled  with  all  the  speed  he  could  command,  not  stopping 
for  rest  until  the  next  morning.  Nearly  worn  out  with  fatigue, 
he  then  lay  down  under  a  tree  and  immediately  fell  asleep.  The 
flight  was  continued  when  he  awoke  and  had  satisfied  his  hunger 
on  a  sage-hen  which  he  shot;  and  he  thought  he  had  a  fair  chance 
of  reaching  Fort  Fetterman,  when,  on  the  evening  of  the  second 
day,  he  discovered  that  the  Indians  were  on  his  trail.  They  rap- 
idly gained  on  him,  and  his  chances  began  to  look  doubtful,  as 
he  had  only  one  revolver,  and  two  chambers  of  that  had  been 
emptied.  Four  shots,  then,  remained,  and  with  these  he  must 
defend  himself  against  a  force  so  far  superior  in  number.  As  they 
came  up  within  range,  he  fired  one  shot  after  another,  and  four 
Indians  dropped  from  their  ponies;  then,  retreating  to  the  edge 
of  the  precipitous  bank,  with  his  pistol  still  raised  as  if  to  fire 
again,  he  leaped  down  to  the  creek  below.  A  dizzy  whirl  through 
the  air,  and  he  reached  the  creek  beneath,  falling  into  an  air- 
hole, and  thus  escaping  all  injury  beyond  a  ducking  in  the  icy 
water  of  the  creek.  Keeping  well  under  the  ledge  of  rocks  that 
shielded  him  from  view,  he  continued  his  journey  along  the 
course  of  the  stream,  while  above  him  the  Indians  searched  fora 
descent  to  the  bed  of  the  creek.  All  night  long  the  chase  con- 
tinued, if  such  it  could  be  called  when  the  savages  expected  to 
find  only  the  mangled  body  of  the  white  man  on  the  ice;  and  in 
the  morning  Bill,  worn  out  by  his  long  flight,  reposed  himself 
behind  the  trunk  of  a  large  cedar.  He  awoke  to  find  the  day  far 
advanced,  but  cloudy  and  dark.  Soon  the  thunder  rolled  heavily 
in  the  distance,  the  earliest  prophecy  of  approaching  spring; 
and  the  sound  was  echoed  by  another,  the  roar  of  the  flood  that 
came  rushing  through  the  canons. 

The  danger  was  imminent.     Clinging  to  the  rugged  bank,  he 


508  WILD    BILL. 

clambered  slowly  upward,  while  each  moment  seemed  an  age. 
A  sound  in  a  higher  key  than  the  rumbling  of  the  thunder  and 
the  roar  of  the  waters,  and  for  a  moment  he  turned;  there  were 
the  Indians,  struggling,  rider  and  horse,  in  the  stream  ;  the  wa- 
ters swept  impetuously  onward,  tossing  the  dark  forms  on  its 
seething  mass  of  foam,  and  dashing  them  against  the  rocky  sides 
of  the  canon.  At  last  the  summit  of  the  precipice  was  reached, 
and  the  weary  man,  no  longer  flying  from  enemies,  continued  his 
journey  until  he  reached  Fort  Fetterman  in  safety,  on  the  fourth 
day  after  the  attack  on  the  camp. 

Not  contented  with  his  experience  there,  Bill  wished  to  organ- 
ize an  expedition  to  the  Black  Hills,  of  sufficient  numbers  to  be 
comparatively  safe  from  the  Indians;  but  was  obliged  to  wait 
until  the  following  spring  (1876).  Going  to  Cheyenne  in  Febru- 
ary of  that  year,  to  perfect  arrangements,  he  again  met  a  lady 
whom  he  had  admired  for  many  years,  and  who  became  his  wife 
early  in  March.  A  wedding-tour  to  Cincinnati  followed,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  twelfth  of  April  that  the  party  of  about  two 
hundred  started  from  Kansas  City. 

Having  discharged  his  duties  as  guide,  Bill  settled  down  in 
Deadwood  to  watch  for  an  opportunity  for  a  profitable  strike. 
Deadwood  needs  no  description,  admits  of  none — a  mining  town, 
peopled  by  adventurous  roughs,  built  up  of  drinking  saloons  and 
gambling  dens.  Frequent  prospecting  tours  along  the  gulches 
among  the  hills  alternated  with  rest  in  the  town,  the  monotony 
being  diversified  by  many  games  of  poker.  Much  money,  of 
course,  thus  changed  hands,  and  the  last  day  of  July  Bill  won 
$500  from  an  adventurer  named  Jack  McCall.  The  loser  admit- 
ted it  was  a  fair  game,  and  seemed  as  well  satisfied  as  any  man 
could  be  under  the  adverse  circumstances.  As  Bill  was  playing 
with  some  others  on  the  afternoon  of  the  2d  of  August,  McCall 
carelessly  entered  the  saloon.  !N"o  one  suspected  that  he  had  any 
particular  purpose  in  view,  until,  when  he  had  reached  a  position 
only  about  a  yard  behind  Wild  Bill,  he  suddenly  drew  a  pistol, 
and  uttered  the  words :  "  D n  you,  take  that !  " 

He  fired  at  the  head  of  his  victim.  The  ball  crashed  through  the 
skull,  passed  through  the  brain,  and  came  out  through  the  right 
cheek,  imbedding  itself  in  the  arm  of  another  player.  Wild 
Bill's  head  bent  slowly  forward,  the  cards  fell  from  his  relaxing 
fingers,  and  he  fell  prone  on  the  floor. 

Words  cannot  describe  the  excitement  which  reigned  in  Dead- 


WILD    BILL.  509 

wood.  Wild  threats  of  lynching  the  murderer  were  heard  on 
every  hand,  but  the  more  orderly-minded  prevailed  upon  these 
hot-headed  avengers  to  give  McCall  a  fair  trial,  and  the  jury  ac- 
quitted him.  But  the  court  was  improvised  for  the  occasion,  and 
when  the  bully  visited  Yankton  a  few  days  later,  boasting  of  his 
deed,  he  was  promptly  arrested,  brought  before  the  legally  es- 
tablished tribunal,  found  guilty,  sentenced,  and  hanged. 

The  murdered  man's  body  was  taken  in  charge  by  his  comrade 
and  friend,  Colorado  Charley,  and  a  grave  dug  on  the  mountain 


THE  MURDER   OF   WILD  BILL. 

side,  where  the  pine-trees  shaded  the  flower-studded  sod.  "With 
his  rifle  by  his  side,  he  was  laid  to  rest.  'Not  forever,  for  as  the 
town  grew,  the  beauty  of  the  woodland  grave  on  the  hill-side 
departed,  and  reverently  his  friends  removed  to  another  resting- 
place  all  that  was  mortal  of  one  of  the  brav.est  scouts  that  Amer- 
ica has  ever  produced. 

"He  was  a  plainsman  in  every  sense  of  the  word,"  says  G-en. 
Custer,  who  knew  him  well  as  a  scout;  "yet  unlike  any  other  c-f 
his  class.  .  .  .  Whether  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  he  was  one  of 
the  most  perfect  types  of  physical  manhood  lever  saw.  .  .  .  His 
manner  was  entirely  free  from  all  bluster  or  bravado.  He  never 
spoke  of  himself  unless  requested  to  do  so.  His  influence  among 
the  frontiersmen  was  unbounded,  his  word  was  law.  Wild  Bill 


510  WILD    BILL. 

is  anything  but  a  quarrelsome  man,  yet  no  one  but  himself  can 
enumerate  the  many  conflicts  in  which  he  has  been  engaged." 

One  notable  peculiarity  was  his  sincere  regret  at  the  invariable 
termination  of  such  contests ;  and  it  was  a  notorious  fact  that 
Wild  Bill  was  always  chief  mourner  at  the  funerals  which  he 
made  necessary,  and  frequently  paid  all  expenses.  In  one  in- 
stance, at  least,  he  went  even  farther,  contributing  to  the  support 
of  Mrs.  McCandlas  whom  her  husband  left  destitute,  until  her 
de.ath. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

*BUFFALO  BILL. 

I'N  the  early  part  of  1845  there  was  born  in  Scott  County,  Iowa, 
a  boy  whose  name  was  destined  to  be  known,  within  thirty 
years,  from  California  to  Eussia, — William  Frederick  Cody,  bet- 
ter recognized  by  his  famous  and  well-earned  title  of  Buffalo  Bill. 
But  his  fertile  farm  in  Iowa  seemed  to  his  father,  Isaac,  less  desi- 
rable than  a  "claim"  in  the  far  western  gold  country,  and  in 
1849,  when  the  California  fever  raged  so  fiercely,  he  made  an  un- 
successful effort  to  reach  the  distant  mines.  For  three  years 
after  this  he  remained  with  his  young  family  in  Iowa,  during 
which  time  little  Billy  was  sent  to  school  to  get  him  out  of  the 
way,  while  his  leisure  time  was  spent  in  trapping  quails.  Thus 
early  began  his  love  for  hunting. 

But  Mr.  Cody  had  not  yet  given  up  the  idea  of  moving  to 
some  new  country,  although  California  had  so  rapidly  filled  up 
that  golden  opportunities  no  longer  presented  themselves  in  that 
state.  In  March,  1852,  then,  he  disposed  of  his  farm,  and,  with  his 
family,  set  out  for  Kansas.  The  journey  gave  no  slight  pleasure 
to  the  seven-year-old  boy,  to  whom  the  corn-bread  and  negroes, 
then  so  plentiful  in  that  part  of  Missouri,  were  objects  of  equal 
interest.  When  the  family  stopped  near  Weston,  there  to  remain 
until  Kansas  was  open  to  emigrants,  and  the  father,  after  a  short 
absence  spent  in  establishing  a  trading-post  at  Salt  Creek  Valley, 
returned  to  take  his  son  over  to  Kansas,  the  boy's  delight  knew 
no  bounds.  Even  the  statement  that  two  ponies,  his  own  proper- 
ty, there  awaited  him,  could  hardly  add  to  his  excitement.  The 
military  parade  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  the  fleets  of  prairie 
schooners  that  dotted  the  green  valleys,  even  the  burial  service 
that  the  encamped  Mormons  held  over  one  of  their  number, 
preceded  the  arrival  at  the  camp.  There  he  found  the  frontiers- 
men, who,  clad  and  armed  in  the  manner  peculiar  to  the  border, 
were  equally  wonderful.  "  They  look  like  pirates,"  was  his  child- 
ish opinion.  Yonder  small  group  of  dark-skinned  apd  curiously 

*By  the  courtesy  of  tho  hero  himself— Hon.  W.  F.  CODY — we  were  referred  to  his 
autobiography  while  preparing  this  sketch.  In  that  volume  he  gives  his  life  and 
adventures  in  more  detail  in  an  exceedingly  interesting  manner.  It  can  be  obtained 
from  his  publisher,  F.  E.  BLISS,  Hartford,  "Conn. 


6 12  BUFFALO  BILL. 

attired  persons  next  claimed  his  attention,  and  the  very  fact  that 
they  were  Indians  made  him  doubly  anxious  to  interview  them. 

But  his  ponies  were  a  disappointment,  being  so  wild  that  they 
would  not  suffer  him  to  touch  them.  One  was  caught,  and  he 
enjoyed  a  ride  upon  it  on  the  second  day,  but  his  father's  hand 
never  left  the  bridle.  They  were  again  at  the  agency  in  the 
evening,  when  there  came  towards  them,  from  a  camp  farther 
down  the  river,  a  magnificent  specimen  of  western  manhood; 
more  than  six  feet  tall,  and  well  built,  his  long,  sinewy  limbs  and 
broad  chest  were  covered  with  a  beautifully  beaded  suit  of  buck- 
skin; a  native  of  the  prairies,  his  step  was  as  light  and  elastic 
as  that  of  the  Swiss  mountaineer  or  the  Scotch  Highland  lassie; 
his  brown  face  wa^  shaded  by  a  huge  sombrero.  Looking  at  the 
boy,  who  was  trying  to 'win  the  love  of  one  of  the  ponies  by 
petting,  he  said: 

"Little  one,  your  ponies  seem  wild  yet." 

"Yes,  and  one  of  them  has  never  been  ridden." 

"Well,  I'll  ride  him  for  you." 

It  was  no  effort  to  "  witch  the  world  with  noble  horseman- 
ship," but  only  a  wish  to  please  a  child.  It  might  well  have  been 
the  first,  for  never  a  knight  or  king  rode  such  a  steed  over  such 
a  course.  Bearing,  plunging,  using  every  endeavor  to  unseat 
his  rider,  the  pony  at  last  concluded  that  it  was  a  hopeless  task, 
and  quietly  submitted  to  the  guidance  of  a  master. 

si  O,  that's  nothing,"  answered  the  Californian  to  Mr.  Cody's 
praises;  "I  was  raised  on  horseback.  I  ran  away  from  home 
when  I  was  a  boy,  went  to  sea,  and  finally  landed  in  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  where  I  fell  in  with  a  circus.  I  was  with  it  two 
years,  and  made  a  mark  as  a  bare-back  rider.  But  I  heard  of  the 
excitement  over  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California,  and  went 
there,  but  didn't  go  to  mining.  I  went  to  work  as  a  bocarro — 
catching  and  breaking  wild  horses.  Last  summer  we  caught  this 
herd  that  we  have  brought  across  the  plains,  and  want  to  sell 
it  in  the  states.  I'm  going  over  to  Weston  to-morrow  to  see  if 
my  uncle  is  still  living  there,  and  when  we've  sold  the  horses 
I'll  go  and  see  the  rest  of  my  folks  in  Ohio." 

"  I  am  acquainted  in  "Weston,  and  perhaps  can  tell  you  about 
your  uncle.  What  is  his  name  ?  " 

"Elijah  Cody." 

"  Elijah  Cody  ?     Why,  he  is  my  brother." 

Sure  enough,  the  stranger,  Horace  Billings,  was  Mr.  Cody's 


fctTEFALO   fclLL.  51 3 

nephew,  who  had  never  been  heard  from  during  all  his  long  ab- 
sence. Between  the  young  giant  and  his  little  cousin  there  soon 
sprang  up  a  strong  friendship,  the  boy  looking  up  to  the  man  as 
the  greatest  of  living  beings,  while  the  man  looked  upon  the  boy 
something  as  a  huge  Newfoundland  looks  at  a  diminutive  black- 
and-tan.  Billings  was  soon  afterward  employed  in  catching  gov- 
ernment horses,  a  large  herd  of  which  had  stampeded  from  Leav- 
enworth  some  time  before,  and  now  roamed  over  the  prairies. 
During  the  time  that  he  was  thus  employed,  little  Billy  was  his 
constant  companion,  and  received  from  him  most  excellent  les- 
sons in  the  management  of  a  horse  and  the  throwing  of  a  lasso. 
Many  a  wild  chase  there  was  across  the  prairies,  when  the  ani- 
mals, with  every  muscle  strained  to  the  utmost,  with  nostrils  di- 
lated and  eyes  glaring  with  terror,  dashed  madly  onward,  fol- 
lowed closely  by  the  reckless  bocarros.  The  long  lariat  whirls 
around  and  above  the  head  of  each  man,  as  he  gallops  beside  the 
animal  he  has  chosen;  now  he  throws  it,  and  the  horse,  half- 
strangled,  and  unable  by  his  brute  instinct  to  account  for  the  sud- 
den compression  about  his  neck,  sinks  struggling  to  the  ground. 
Of  such  scenes  as  these  was  the  boy  a  delighted  spectator,  al- 
though, of  course,  he  did  not  possess  sufficient  strength  to  be  of 
any  very  material  assistance  ;  but  there  was  soon  developed  an 
intense  longing  to  be  like  this  wonderful  cousin. 

Through  the  next  few  years  we  need  not  follow  him;  only 
pausing  to  note  that  his  companions,  boys  from  the  neighboring 
friendly  Kickapoo  tribe,  taught  him  something  of  their  language, 
and  from  them  he  acquired  considerable  skill  in  the  use  of  the 
bow  and  arrow.  Mr.  Cody's  avowal  of  his  anti-slavery  opinions 
was  rewarded  by  a  murderous  assault,  from  the  effects  of  which 
he  had  hardly  recovered  when  his  house  was  surrounded  by  a 
pro-slavery  mob,  and  he  only  escaped  by  disguising  himself  in 
his  wife's  clothes;  the  ruse  was  not  detected  in  the  darkness. 
Nor  did  a  removal  render  him  much  safer.  Learning  of  a  plot  to 
kill  her  husband,  Mrs.  Cody  sent  her  eldest  son,  now  nine  years 
old,  to  warn  him  of  his  danger;  as  the  boy  rode  on,  he  heard, 
from  a  party  of  men  encamped  at  the  creek  crossing,  the  words : 
"  That's  the  son  of  the  old  abolitionist  we're  after." 
In  a  moment  came  the  order  to  halt.  But  onward  dashed  the 
plucky  little  animal  at  his  master's  bidding,  and  those  who  pur- 
sued  him  were  soon  distanced;  the  boy  realized  how  much  de- 
pended upon  his  escape,  and  rode  without  caring  to  spare  even 


BUFFALO    BILL.  515 

his  beloved  pony.  For  a  long  time  Mr.  Cody's  life  was  not  safe 
in  Kansas,  especially  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  own  house,  and 
it  was  only  by  stealth  that  he  could  visit  his  family. 

In  the  meantime,  Billy  had  been  nearly  heart-broken  by  the 
theft  of  his  pony.  Meeting  one  day  with  Mr.  Eussell,  the  great 
freighter,  whom  he  knew  well,  he  poured  all  his  troubles  into 
sympathizing  ears. 

"  Billy,  my  boy,  cheer  up.  Come  to  Leavenworth,  and  I'll  em- 
ploy you.  I'll  give  you  twenty-five  dollars  a  month  to  herd  cattle." 

Consoled  for  the  loss  of  his  steed  by  the  brilliancy  of  his  future 
prospects,  Billy  hurried  home  to  inform  his  mother  of  this  mun- 
ificent offer;  but  less  dazzled  by  it  than  her  son,  she  refused  to 
let  him  go.  All  his  pleading  was  in  vain,  and  he  was  reduced  to 
the  alternatives  of  staying  at  home,  or  running  away.  He  chose 
the  latter,  not  returning  for  two  months,  when  he  brought  a  hun- 
dred silver  half-dollars  to  his  mother,  who  had'  long  before  this 
learned  of  his  whereabouts,  and  consented  to  let  him  remain  in 
Mr.  Eussell's  employ.  But  she  was  not  content  that  he  should 
long  continue  at  this  work,  and  persuaded  him  to  stay  at  home 
and  go  to  school.  For  some  time,  acceding  to  her  wish,  he  de- 
voted himself  to  his  books,  until  an  unlucky  fight  with  his  rival 
for  the  favor  of  a  small  maiden,  ended  in  the  infliction  of  a  slight 
cut  on  the  thigh  of  his  antagonist.  Believing  that  he  had  killed 
him,  Billy  lost  no  time  in  getting  away,  and  soon  reached  a  hav- 
en of  safety. 

This  was  a  freight  train  sent  out  by  his  former  employers,  the 
wagon-master  of  which,  John  Willis,  was  an  old  acquaintance, 
and  now  proved  himself  to  be  a  friend  in  need.  Mrs.  Cody  had 
heard  of  Billy's  fight,  and  was  in  considerable  anxiety  about  him 
when,  that  night,  after  the  men  connected  with  the  train  had  en- 
camped, he  and  his  friend  rode  to  her  house.  After  much  solici- 
tation, she  gave  her  consent  to  the  plan  which  they  had  formed, 
although  fearful  lest  her  boy  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  In- 
dians. The  event  proved  that  her  boy  was  quite  able  to  take 
care  of  himself.  In  accordance  with  the  proposition  that  Willis 
had  made  to  him,  then,  Billy  set  out  to  Fort  Kearney  with  ih$ 
train,  and  spent  the  summer  in  herding.  The  death  of 
er,  in  the  spring  of  1857,  rendered  it  desirable  for  him  t 
tinue  in  this  work,  and  in  May  of  that  year  he  was 
hands  accompanying  a  herd  of  beef  cattle  to  the 
Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  who  was  then  fighting  the  Mornq^g.  cfn 
83 


516  BUFFALO 'BILL. 

Reaching  a  point  on  the  South  Platte  some  thirty-five  miles 
from  Old  Fort  Kearney,  they  encamped  for  dinner.  As  a  matter 
of  habit,  three  men  were  posted  as  guards ;  the  cook  was  busily 
getting  dinner,  and  the  wagon-masters  and  others  taking  a  quiet 
noonday  nap.  Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  no  one  was  ever  entire- 
ly safe  from  attack,  they  thought  nothing  of  Indians,  having  no 
idea  that  there  were  any  near  them.  The  guards  themselves 
doubtless  were  cursing  the  unnecessary  precaution  which  kept 
them  from  enjoying  a  nap  beside  their  companions,  when  they 
heard  on  every  side  the  war-whoop  of  the  red  man,  and  saw  In- 
dians who  seemed  to  have  sprung  from  the  earth,  or  dropped 
from  the  sky.  As  the  men  jumped  to  their  feet  and  seized  their 
guns,  they  saw  the  cattle  rushing  off  in  every  direction;  the  first 
effort  of  a  war-party  being  to  stampede  all  the  animals  belong- 
ing to  the  camp  which  they  attack.  The  three  guards  had  been 
killed  at  the  first  fire  of  the  savages,  who  now  charged  down  up- 
on the  camp.  Eeceived  by  a  well-directed  volley  from  the  re- 
volvers and  yagers  of  the  teamsters,  they  drew  off,  but  evidently 
only  to  re-form  for  another  attack. 

"Make  a  break  for  the  slough  yonder,"  shouted  Frank  Mc- 
Carthy, in  charge  of  the  herd ;  "  and  then  we  can  use  the  bank  as 
a  breastwork." 

Obeying  the  order,  and  carrying  with  them  the  one  man  who 
had  been  wounded,  they  for  sometime  successfully  defended  them- 
selves. But  something  more  than  defense  was  necessary ;  they 
must  reach  the  shelter  of  Fort  Kearney  again,  for  the  Indians 
largely  outnumbered  them,  and  seemed  as  fresh  as  ever,  while 
the  teamsters  had  no  hope  of  reinforcements. 

"  Well,  boys,  we'll  try  to  make  our  way  back  to  Fort  Kearney 
by  wading  in  the  river  and  keeping  the  bank  for  a  breastwork." 

Several  miles  were  traversed  in  the  manner  indicated  by  their 
leader;  the  Indians  above  them  on  the  high,  steep  bank  watch- 
ing an  opportunity  to  send  a  raking  fire  down  upon  them.  A 
raft  of  poles  was  constructed  for  the  wounded  man,  and  served 
also,  when  they  came  to  deep  water,  to  keep  their  weapons  dry 
as  they  swam.  Night  came  on,  and  still  the  relative  position  of 
the  two  parties  was  unchanged.  The  strength  of  the  boy  began 
to  fail,  and  he  lagged  behind  the  others,  now  a  few  feet,  now  as 
many  yards,  now  still  farther.  Patiently  he  toiled  on,  summon- 
ing all  his  powers  of  endurance.  It  was  ten  o'clock.  Looking 
up  at  the  bright  moonlit  sky,  he  saw?  darkly  outlined  against  it? 


BUFFALO   BILL. 


517 


the  plumed  head  of  a  warrior  looking  over  the  brow  of  the  bluff. 
Sharp  and  clear  rang  out  the  report  of  Billy's  gun,  and  with  one 
wild  cry  the  Indian  leaped  up,  and  then  fell  forward  into  the 
water — dead. 

"  Who  fired  that  shot  ?"  shouted  Frank  McCarthy,  as  he  and 
the  other  men  turned  back  upon  hearing  the  report. 

"I  did,"  answered  the  boy, 
not  a  little  proud  of  his  first 
effort. 

"Yes,  and  little  Billy  has 
killed  an  Indian  stone  dead,  too 
dead  to  skin,"  added  one  of  the 
men,  as  they  came  nearer,  and 
he  caught  sight  of  the  dusky 
form  lying  in  the  shallow  water. 

Above  them,  on  the  bank,  the 
Indians  set  up  a  terrible  howl- 
ing, and  sent  one  or  two  vol- 
leys of  shot  downward,  but 
they  were  fortunately  so  well 
protected  by  the  bank  that  no 
harm  was  done.  "What  would 
the  savages  have  said  if  they 
had  known  that  the  warrior  had 
fallen  at  the  hands  of  a  boy 
twelve  years  old  ?  The  event  cre- 
ated quite  a  sensation  at  the  time ;  Billy,  on  his  arrival  at 
Leavenworth,  was  interviewed  by  a  reporter,  and  he  was  soon 
widely  known  as  the  youngest  Indian  killer  on  the  plains. 

Billy  was  now  wedded  to  a  life  on  the  plains,  and  in  the  sum- 
mer of  the  same  year  was  employed  as  extra  hand  on  a  train 
bound  for  Utah.  It  was  on  this  trip  that  he  first  met  Wild  Bill, 
whose  reputation  and  prowess  made  him  as  great  a  hero  to  the 
boy  as  Kit  Carson  had  been  to  himself.  He  had  not  yet  earned 
the  title  by  which  he  became  famous,  but  his  powerful  build,  his 
ability  to  "  out-run,  out-jump,  and  out-fight  any  man  in  the  train," 
the  true  manliness  that  never  allowed  his  exertions  of  power  to 
become  brutality,  laid  the  foundations  of  the  respect  and  love 
which  Buffalo  Bill  always  felt  for  him,  during  a  friendship  that 
lasted  for  nearly  twenty  years.  But  it  was  not  his  general  char- 
acter which  first  endeared  him  to  our  hero,  but  a  special  display 


BILLY  KILLS   HIS   FIRST  INDIAN. 


518  BUJTALO    BILL. 

of  his  lovable  qualities  and  his  readiness  to  defend  the  helpless. 
A  surly,  overbearing  fellow,  one  of  the  teamsters,  had  for  some 
time  taken  particular  delight  in  bullying  and  tyrannizing  over 
Billy,  when  one  day,  while  they  were  at  dinner,  he  ordered  the 
boy  to  perform  some  small  service  for  him.  Billy  hesitated  a 
moment,  and  the  teamster  gave  him  a  slap  in  the  face,  that  sent 
him  from  the  ox-yoke  on  which  he  was  sitting,  sprawling  on  the 
ground.  Jumping  up  with  a  mad  wish  to  revenge  the  insult, 
Billy  snatched  up  a  kettle  of  boiling  coffee  and  threw  it  at  him. 
Smarting  at  the  boy's  retaliation  no  less  than  at  the  scalding 
received,  the  teamster  sprang  at  the  boy  with  all  the  ferocity  of 
a  wild  beast,  only  to  be  stopped  midway  in  his  course,  felled  by 
a  blow  from  Wild  Bill. 

"  What's  it  yer  business,  anyhow  ?"  he  demanded,  as  he  rose 
and  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  face  to  wipe  away  the  blood ; 
"  What  did  yer  hev  to  put  in  yer  oar  for,  I'd  like  ter  know  ?" 

"  It  is  my  business  to  protect  that  boy,  or  anybody  else,  from 
abuse  or  kicks,"  answered  Wild  Bill,  his  gray  eyes,  glittering 
like  steel,  fixed  steadily  upon  the  angry  teamster;  "  and  if  you 
ever  lay  a  hand  on  little  Billy  again,  I'll  give  you  such  a  pound- 
ing as  you  won't  get  over  for  a  month  of  Sundays." 

As  in  after  years,  the  statement  that  "  whoever  wants  any  more 
of  a  fight  must  settle  it  with  me,"  was  enough,  and  Billy  was  not 
again  molested  either  by  that  teamster,  or  by  any  who  might, 
otherwise,  have  been  so  disposed. 

The  same  point  at  which,  on  the  previous  trip,  they  had  been 
attacked  by  the  Indians,  again  proved  to  be  the  scene  of  misfor- 
tune, for  the  Mormons,  learning  that  the  supplies  in  this  train 
were  destined  for  Gen.  Johnston's  army,  surprised  and  attacked 
the  teamsters,  possessed  themselves  of  such  goods  as  they  could 
carry  off,  and  burned  the  wagons  and  the  bulk  of  their  contents. 
Eeturning  to  Fort  Bridger,  they  spent  the  long  and  tedious  win- 
ter, suffering  greatly  from  lack  of  food.  Eeduced  to  one-quarter 
rations,  they  were  at  last  obliged  to  kill  the  cattle  for  beef. 
Buffalo  Bill,  in  his  Autobiography,  asserts  that  the  animals  were 
so  poor  that  they  had  to  prop  them  up  to  shoot  them  down.  But 
better  times  came  with  the  opening  of  spring,  and  two  trains, 
under  the  command  of  the  brigade-master,  set  out  by  way  of 
Port  Leavenworth  for  Utah. 

The  two  trains  were  about  fifteen  miles  apart  when  Simpson, 
the  brigade-master,  directed  his  assistant  wagon-master.  Woods, 


fctm?ALO  BILL. 

and  young  Cody,  to  ride  ahead  with  him  to  the  forward  train. 
They  had  gone  about  seven  miles,  and  were  on  a  high,  flat  sur- 
face of  considerable  extent,  when,  half  a  mile  away,  they  saw  a 
body  of  Indians  slowly  emerging  from  a  ravine  ahead  of  them. 
Down  came  the  savages  in  a  furious  charge  upon  the  little  party. 
But  a  warm  reception  awaited  them.  Jumping  from  his  own 
mule,  Simpson  gave  the  order  to  dismount  and  shoot  the  animals. 
Jerking  the  carcasses  around  the  men  to  form  a  triangular  breast- 
work, he  had  hardly  completed  his  arrangements  for  defense 
when  the  Indians  were  so  near  that  they  were  almost  within  range. 

"  Get  ready  for  them  with  your  guns,  and  when  they  come 
within  fifty  yards,  aim  low,  blaze  away,  and  bring  down  your 
man." 

The  order  was  faithfully  obeyed,  and  three  Indians  fell  at  the 
first  fire.  Only  one  or  two  of  the  savages,  luckily,  carried  rifles, 
most  of  them  being  armed  only  with  bow  and  arrow.  Around 
and  around  the  little  fortification  they  rode,  directing  a  flight  of 
arrows  every  now  and  then  against  the  men  crouching  there,  and 
firing  as  fast  as  it  was  possible  to  reload.  Withdrawing  at  last 
to  a  considerable  distance,  they  appeared  to  be  holding  a  council. 
This  continued  for  about  two  hours,  while  the  white  men,  in  fev- 
erish haste,  dug  up  with  their  knives  the  earth  inside  the  barri- 
cade, throwing  it  around  and  over  the  mules  to  form  a  better  de- 
fense. An  effort  on  the  part  of  the  Indians  to  burn  them  out  by 
setting  fire  to  the  prairie  failed,  on  account  of  the  shortness  of 
the  grass ;  and,  finally  giving  up  the  idea  of  succeeding  by  an  at- 
tack, the  redskins  began  a  siege. 

Evidently  the  Indians  knew  of  the  first  train,  but  not  of  the 
second,  in  which  lay  the  only  hope  of  the  besieged  party.  The 
siege  lasted  all  night,  and  far  into  the  next  morning.  The  sun 
indicated  about  10  A.  M.,  when  they  heard  in  the  distance  the 
report  of  the  bull-whips,  sharp  and  clear  as  that  of  a  rifle.  In  a 
few  moments  they  saw  the  foremost  wagon  coming  slowly  over 
the  distant  ridge,  and  soon  the  whole  outfit  came  in  sight.  Once 
more,  for  the  last  time,  the  Indians  charged  upon  our  little  group, 
and,  repulsed  as  gallantly  as  before,  dashed  away  over  the  prai- 
ries. No  other  incident  marked  their  progress  over  the  plains. 

Let  us  pass  lightly  over  the  next  few  years,  spent  partly  in  the 
same  work,  partly  in  mining,  partly  as  a  pony  express  rider. 
The  latter  part  of  1859  found  him  trapping  for  beaver  on  the  tri- 
butaries of  the  Republican,  where  a  serious  accident  befell  him. 


520 

Spying  a  herd  of  elk,  Billy  and  his  companion  started  in  pursuit 
of  them,  but  while  turning  a  sharp  bend  in  the  creek  the  former 
slipped  and  broke  his  leg.  One  of  their  yoke  of  oxen  had  fallen 
a  short  time  before,  andtit  being  impossible  for  them  to  cure  the 
poor  thing's  hurts,  they  had  shot  it.  Billy  now  begged  his  friend 
to  put  him  out  of  his  misery  in  the  same  way.  But  Harrington  set 
the  broken  bone  as  best  he  could,  and  making  the  wounded  boy  as 
comfortable  as  possible,  set  off  to  the  nearest  settlement,  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  miles  away,  to  get  a  yoke  of  cattle  with 
which  to  remove  Billy.  At  least  twenty  days  would  be  needed 
for  the  trip,  and  during  this  whole  time  the  helpless  boy  must 
be  left  alone.  Twelve  days  passed,  each  one  longer  than  the  pre- 
ceding one  had  been,  and  the  boy  wearily  counted  the  time  that 
must  go  by  before  anyone  could  come.  In  the  midst  of  the  cal- 
culations which  had  been  repeated  so  often,  he  fell  asleep.  A 
touch  on  his  shoulder  awakened  him,  and  he  opened  his  eyes  to 
see  an  Indian  warrior  standing  beside  him,  his  face  hideously 
daubed  with  war-paint.  In  a  mixture  of  Sioux  and  broken  Eng- 
lish, this  grisly  visitor  asked  him  what  he  was  doing  there,  and 
how  many  companions  he  had.  Hardly  knowing  if  he  were 
awake  or  dreaming,  Billy  heard  the  voices  as  of  a  large  party 
outside,  and  saw  the  little  dug-out  filled  with  Indians,  but  had  no 
time  to  reply  before  the  old  chief,  Kain-in-the-Face,  entered. 

To  him  Billy  appealed,  and  not  in  vain.  His  young  men  were 
on  the  war-path,  but  this  was  a  "pappoose,"  and  they  consented 
to  spare  him.  Billy  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  lodge  of 
Rain-in-the-Face,  and  the  old  chief  pitied  his  condition;  but  took 
all  the  arms  in  the  dug-out  to  accoutre  one  of  his  warriors,  who 
had  no  gun.  Helping  themselves  liberally  to  the  provisions 
which  they  found,  the  Indians  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day 
and  all  night  there.  The  sugar  and  coffee  were  all  consumed, 
these  being  luxuries  for  which  the  Indians  eagerly  seek.  Taking 
with  th^m  such  cooking  utensils  as  they  fancied,  they  departed 
next  morning,  leaving  Billy  too  glad  to  escape  with  his  life  to 
grumble  at  their  helping  themselves  to  his  food. 

The  next  day  it  began  to  snow,  and  for  three  days  the  storm 
continued.  Thick  and  fast  fell  the  flakes,  blocking  the  doorway 
and  covering  the  dug-out  until  it  looked  like  a  huge  grave.  The 
wood  was  under  the  snow,  and  sooner  than  endure  the  pain  which 
attended  the  getting  it,  he  lay  without  fire  for  some  time,  eating 
raw  frozen  meat  and  snow.  Harrington,  he  felt  sure,  had  been 


feUFFALO   felLt.  621 

lost  in  the  show,  and  ho  had  nearly  given  up  all  hopes  of  leaving 
the  dug-out  alive.  The  hoarse  "whoa,  haw!"  that  he  heard  on 
the  twentieth  day  was  the  sweetest  music  that  had  ever  pleased 
his  ears.  The  two  friends  greeted  each  other  with  all  the  enthu- 
siasm of  two  school-girls,  each  having  supposed  the  other  had  per- 
ished. They  reached  the  settlements  in  safety,  but  it  was  many 
months  before  Billy  could  walk  without  crutches.  Harrington 
had  braved  many  difficulties  and  hardships  to  succor  his  friend, 
and  Mrs.  Cody  could  not  do  enough  for-  him  when  he  fell  sick  at 
her  house  in  the  spring,  she  nursing  him  most  tenderly  until 
his  death. 

While  he  lay  in  the  dug-out,  Billy  had  vowed  that  if  he  escap- 
ed with  his  life  he  would  leave  the  plains  forever,  but  as  the 
summer  came  on,  and  he  had  completely  recovered  from  the  ef- 
fects of  his  accident,  he  began  to  long  for  the  old  life.  Offering 
himself  as  a  pony  express  rider,  he  was  greeted  with : 

"  My  boy,  you  are  too  young  for  that  work.  It  takes  all  of  a 
man's  strength." 

"  I  rode  two  months  last  year  on  Bill  Trotter's  division,  and 
filled  the  bill  then,  and  I  think  I  am  better  able  to  ride  now." 

"  What !  are  you  the  boy  that  was  riding  there,  and  was  called 
the  youngest  rider  on  the  road  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  same  boy." 

"  I've  heard  of  you  before.  You  are  a  year  older  now,  and  I 
reckon  you  can  stand  it.  I'll  give  you  a  trial,  anyway,  and  if 
you  weaken  you  can  come  back  to  Horseshoe  station  and  tend 
stock." 

He  was  assigned  to  duty  on  the  road  between  Eed  Buttes,  on 
the  North  Platte,  to  the  Three  Crossings  of  the  Sweetwater,  a 
distance  of  seventy-six  miles.  Biding  into  the  latter  one  day  not 
long  after  his  appointment,  he  found  that  the  rider  who  was  ex- 
pected to  carry  on  the  letters  that  he  brought  had  been  killed  in  a 
drunken  row  the  night  before,  and  there  was  no  one  to  lake  his 
place.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  Cody  changed  horses, 
and  undertook  the  extra  ride  of  eighty-five  miles.  Arriving  at 
the  end  of  the  route  in  good  time,  he  turned  and  rode  back  to 
the  starting-point,  accomplishing  a  distance  of  more  than  three 
hundred  miles  on  the  round  trip. 

The  Indians  were  becoming  very  troublesome  along  the  stage 
route,  continually  lying  in  wait  for  the  express  riders  and  the 
coaches ;  and  all,  especially  the  lone  riders,  had  to  take  many 


524 

desperate  chances.  The  drivers  and  passengers  of  all  stages  de* 
parting  were  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  it  was  quite  an  interest- 
ing sight  to  see  the  huge  affairs  load  up  and  start  6ff  from  a  sta- 
tion. It  was  always  realized  what  perils  might  beset  them 
on  the  way.  About  the  middle  of  September  the  savages  gath- 
ered sufficient  courage  to  openly  attack  a  stage.  As  the  heavy 
vehicle  lumbered  on,  five  hundred  Sioux  appeared  from  the  long 
grass,  where  they  had  lain  concealed,  and,  yelling  like  so  many 
devils  let  loose,  rushed  upon  them.  Passengers  and  employes 
were  well  armed,  but  the  odds  were  too  great;  the  driver 
and  two  passengers  were  killed,  one  man  badly  wounded,  and 
the  stage  plundered.  Much  stock  was  driven  off  from  the  dif- 
ferent stations,  and  it  was  finally  decided  to  stop  the  pony  express 
for  at  least  six  weeks,  and  run  the  stages  only  occasionally  for 
the  same  length  of  time. 

It  was  while  nearly  all  the  employes  of  the  road  were  thus  ly- 
ing idle  that  it  was  decided  to  send  out  a  party  of  volunteers 
against  the  Indians.  Of  this  company  Billy  was  one,  but  as  the 
incidents  and  results  have  already  been  related  in  the  sketch  of 
the  captain,  Wild  Bill,  it  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  the  story  here. 

Returning  to  headquarters,  Cody,  who  had  made  himself  quite 
a  favorite,  was  put  on  as  an  extra  rider  as  soon  as  the  pony  ex- 
press was  again  running  ;  having  little  to  do  except  on  extraor- 
dinary occasions.  Having  much  leisure,  he  devoted  considerable 
time  to  hunting,  a  sport  to  which  he  had  been  attached  ever  since, 
at  the  age  of  five  or  six  years,  he  had  trapped  quails  in  Iowa. 
Starting  out  for  a  bear-hunt  one  day,  he  had  gone  some  distance, 
and  killed  only  some  sage-hens,  which  he  was  about  to  cook  for 
his  supper,  when  he  heard  the  whinny  of  a  horse  near  by.  Know- 
ing of  no  white  men  in  the  neighborhood,  and  fearing  that  the 
animal  might  belong  to  a  roving  band  of  Indians,  he  determined 
to  make  a  reconnoissance.  Re-saddling  his  horse  and  tying  him 
securely,  so  as  to  prevent  his  straying  with  his  fellows,  he  start- 
ed up  the  stream,  gun  in  hand.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek, 
high  up  on  the  mountain,  he  soon  saw  a  light  shining  through 
the  gathering  darkness.  Approaching  cautiously,  he  found  that 
it  came  from  a  dug-out  on  the  mountain-side,  from  which  he  heard 
voices.  At  last  he  could  distinguish  the  language  in  which  they 
spoke — it  was  English.  Knowing  that  the  occupants  of  the  hut 
were  white  men,  and  supposing  them  to  be  a  party  of  trappers, 
he  walked  boldly  up  to  the  door  and  knocked  for  admission  ;  in 


625 

to  the  inquiry  from  within,  "Who's  there?"  he  replied: 

"  A  friend  and  a  white  man." 

"Come  in,"  and  a  big,  ugly-looking  fellow  opened  the  door. 
It  was  too  late  to  back  out,  though  Billy  would  have  readily  done 
so  when  he  discovered  into  whose  hands  he  had  fallen.  They 
were  eight  as  rough  and  villainous  looking  men  as  he  had  ever 
seen  in  the  whole  course  of  his  adventurous  life.  Two  of  them 
he  recognized  as  teamsters  discharged  some  time  before,  and 
now  sought  because  they  had  robbed  and  murdered  a  ranchman. 
Without  showing  any  signs  of  recognition,  however,  he  conceal- 
ed his  fear  and  distrust. 

"Where  are  you  going,  young  man,  and  who's  with  you?" 

"I  am  entirely  alone.  I  left  Horseshoe  Station  this  morning 
for  a  bear-hunt,  and  not  finding  any  bears,  I  had  determined  to 
camp  out  for  the  night  and  wait  till  morning;  and  just  as  I  was 
going  into  camp,  a  hundred  yards  down  the  creek,  I  heard  one 
of  your  horses  whinnying,  and  then  I  came  up  to  your  camp." 

"  Where's  your  horse?" 

"I  left  him  down  the  creek." 

"We'd  better  some  of  us  go  down  after  it." 

"  Captain,  I'll  leave  my  gun  here  and  go  down  to  get  him,  and 
then  come  back  and  stay  all  night  here,"  said  Billy,  thinking 
it  would  be  better  to  escape  without  his  gun  than  not  at  all. 

"No  you  don't,  my  fine  young  fellow,"  thought  the  despera- 
does, "  we  don't  know  but  what  you're  a  spy  on  us." 

"Jim  and  I  will  go  down  with  you  after  your  horse,"  one  of 
them  said,  "and  you  can  leave  your  gun  here  all  the  same,  for 
you  won't  need  it." 

"All  right,"  answered  Billy,  who  could  raise  no  objection. 

"  Come  along,  then." 

As  they  reached  the  little  camp  one  of  them  unhitched  the 
horse  and  said,  "I'll  lead  him.  Come  on." 

"  Yery  well ;  I've  got  a  couple  of  sage-hens  here.  Wait  a  min- 
ute till  I  get  them." 

On  they  went,  the  man  who  led  the  horse  in  the  van,  Billy  in 
the  middle,  the  other  bringing  up  the  rear. 

Although  he  had  left  his  gun  at  the  dug-out,  he  fortunately 
had  both  of  his  revolvers,  and  the  first  plan  of  escape  having 
failed,  he  quickly  hit  upon  another. 

"I've  dropped  one  of  the  sage-hens,"  he  said  presently,  with 
vexation,  to  the  man  following  him;  "do  you  see  it  anywhere?" 


526 


fetlFFALO 


The  unsuspecting  man  stooped  to  look  upon  the  ground,  while 
Billy,  quickly  drawing  one  of  his  revolvers,  struck  him  a  blow 
on  the  head  that  knocked  him  senseless.  Hearing  the  blow,  the 
man  who  was  leading  the  horse  turned,  his  hand  on  his  revolver, 
ready  in  true  frontier  fashion  for  the  emergency,  whatever  it 
might  be.  Peering  through  the  darkness,  he  had  not  discovered 
what  was  wrong,  when  Billy  fired,  shooting  him  dead  in  his 
tracks.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  jumping  on  his  horse  our 
hero  rode  down  the  creek  at  full  speed. 

The  shot  was  heard  at  the  dug-out,  and  not  very  sure  of  their 


ESCAPING   FROM   THE   HORSE  THIEVES. 

guest's  intentions,  the  outlaws  came  rushing  down  to  the  stream. 
They  found  the  body  of  their  comrade  that  had  been  killed,  and 
learned  from  the  other,  who  had  by  this  time  recovered  con- 
sciousness, what  had  happened.  On  they  came,  then,  in  hot  pur- 
suit, and  although  unmounted,  gained  rapidly  upon  Cody,  as 
the  ground  was  so  rough  that  his  horse  could  make  but  little 
headway.  At  last  they  came  so  close  that  he  saw  he  must  re- 
sort to  strategy,  and  throwing  himself  from  his  horse,  he  gave 
the  animal  a  hard  slap  with  the  butt  of  one  of  his  revolvers,  and 
scrambled  up  the  mountain  side.  The  horse  started  down  the 


BUFFALO   BILL.  527 

valley,  and  the  pursuers,  led  on  by  the  sound  of  his  hoofs  clatter- 
ing on  the  hard  ground,  passed  at  full  speed  by  the  pine-tree  be- 
hind  which  Cody  was  hidden.  Soon  he  could  hear  them  firing, 
supposing  that  he  was  still  on  the  horse,  and  cheered  by  this  evi- 
dence that  he  had  given  them  the  slip,  he  toiled  on  toward  Horse- 
shoe Station,  twenty-five  miles  away.  A  party  of  twenty  well- 
armed  men  started  the  next  morning  to  "  clean  out  the  ranch  "  of 
horse-thieves,  for  such  were  his  hosts  of  the  evening  before,  but 
the  birds  had  flown.  A  thorough  search  of  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood gave  no  other  result ;  but  for  some  time  afterwards  they 
were  not  troubled  by  horse-thieves. 

When  the  war  broke  out  in  1861,  young  Cody  became  a  mem- 
ber of  Chandler's  company,  a  body  of  men  enlisted  for  the  pur- 
pose of  revenging  upon  the  Missourians  the  injuries  inflicted 
during  the  Kansas  troubles.  Missouri  had  not  seceded,  nor  did 
all  of  her  people  sympathize  with  the  South,  but  it  was  a  slave 
state,  and,  they  thought,  fair  game.  The  services  to  the  Union 
consisted  in  collecting  horses  from  the  well-stocked  farms  in 
Jackson,  Lafayette,  and  the  neighboring  counties;  the  animals 
not  being  turned  over,  however,  to  the  authorities.  The  Missouri- 
ans naturally  resented  this  behavior — there  is  nothing  they  hate 
as  they  do  a  horse-thief, — and  in  several  running  fights  chased 
the  jayhawkers  back  to  Kansas.  The  United  States  officials  set 
detectives  on  the  track  of  Chandler  and  his  men,  and  several 
were  arrested ;  but  not  before  Mrs.  Cody  had  set  the  matter  in 
its  true  light  before  her  son,  and  induced  him  to  abandon  an  en- 
terprise that  was  neither  right  nor  honorable. 

But  Billy  was  destined  for  more  legitimate  work  as  a  soldier. 
Passing  over  the  remainder  of  1861  and  the  beginning  of  the  next 
year,  during  which  time  he  was  employed  in  buying  horses  for 
the  government,  we  find  him,  in  the  spring  of  1862,  accompany- 
ing, as  scout  and  guide,  the  volunteer  regiment  which  Col.  Clark 
led  against  the  Indians.  It  will  be  remembered  that  this  was  the 
year  that  the  Sioux,  enraged  by  the  violation  of  the  treaty  made 
seven  years  before,  committed  so  many  robberies  and  massacred 
so  many  settlers.  The  Ninth  Kansas  performed  scouting  service 
along  the  Arkansas,  among  the  Kiowas  and  Comanches,  who 
threatened  coalition  with  the  more  northern  tribe;  but  though 
there  were  several  skirmishes  with  the  savages,  there  were  none 
of  especial  interest  or  importance.  Leaving  this  service  late  in 
the  fall,  he  joined  the  Eed-Legged  Scouts,  operating  in  the  valley 


528  BtJFFALO   BILL. 

of  the  Arkansas  and  in  southwestern  Missouri.  Much  of  their 
time  was  employed  in  hunting  bushwhackers,  among  whom  the 
notorious  Younger  brothers  were  prominent,  and  many  were  the 
lively  skirmishes  between  them.  Employed  also  in  carrying  de- 
spatches, the  short  periods  of  time  spent  at  the  various  military 
posts  were  passed  in  all  the  festivity  that  each  place  allowed. 

But  darker  days  were  coming.  His  mother  died  in  Novem- 
ber, 1863,  and  for  a  long  time  Billy  mourned  her  with  all  the 
ardor  of  his  nature.  Going  to  Leavenworth,  he  tried  to  drown 
care  in  drink,  and  for  two  months  gave  fair  promise  of  becom- 
ing as  disreputable  as  any  of  his  new  associates.  Awaking  one 
morning,  early  in  the  new  year,  he  found  himself  a  soldier  in  the 
Seventh  Kansas.  When  or  how  he  had  enlisted  he  could  not  tell, 
but  knew  that  he  must  have  been  far  gone  on  a  spree,  and  con- 
cluded to  make  the  best  of  it.'  In  the  spring,  the  regiment  was 
ordered  to  Tennessee,  where  Cody  soon  became  a  non-commis- 
sioned officer,  and  was  put  on  detached  service  as  a  scout.  The 
Seventh  was  ordered  back  to  Missouri  and  performed  good  work 
in  repelling  Price's  last  raid.  Wild  Bill  and  Billy  Cody  were 
frequently  together  during  this  campaign,  after  the  escape  of  the 
former  from  the  Confederate  linee. 

Service  in  St.  Louis  in  the  winter  of  1864-5  resulted  in  an  ac- 
quaintance with  a  young  lady  of  this  city  whom  he  married  in 
the  spring  of  the  following  year.  The  interval  between  the  close 
of  the  war  and  his  marriage  was  spent  in  stage-driving,  but  hav- 
ing promised  his  wife  that  he  would  leave  the  plains,  he  rented  a 
hotel  in  Salt  Creek  Yalley,  and  for  a  few  months  settled  down 
to  the  business.  Many  qualities  combined  to  make  him  a  good 
and  popular  landlord,  but  six  months  of  it  proved  enough  for 
him.  Longing  for  the  old  wild  life  again,  and  believing  that  he 
could  make  more  money  on  the  frontier  than  where  he  was,  he 
started  west.  Meeting  at  Junction  City  with  his  old  friend  Wild 
Bill,  who  was  scouting  for  the  government,  and  learning  from 
him  that  more  scouts  were  needed,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  obtain- 
ing employment.  It  was  while  he  was  scouting  around  Fort 
Hays  that  he  met  with  Gen.  Custer,  who  had  just  come  out  with 
Gen.  Hancock's  Indian  expedition.  Custer's  favor  was  soon 
gained,  and  when  Cody  had  acted-  as  guide  for  him  in  one  in- 
stance, he  said : 

"  If  you  were  not  engaged  as  post  scout  at  Fort  Hays,  I  would 
like  to  have  you  with  me  this  summer.  But  if  you  ever  happen 


BUFFALO    BILL.  529 

to  be  out  of  employment,  come  to  me  and  I'll  find  you  something, 
to  do." 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  an  expedition  was  sent  in  pursuit 
of  some  Indians  who  had  made  a  raid  on  the  K.  P.  E.  E.  Five 
or  six  men  had  been  killed,  here  and  there  a  workman  who  was 
at  some  distance  from  his  fellows,  and  about  a  hundred  horses 
and  mules  had  been  run  off.  A  company  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry— 
a  negro  regiment — was  sent  against  them,  Cody  being  scout  and 
guide.  A  mountain  howitzer  was  sent  with  the  force,  and  the 
darkeys,  confiding  in  this  and  in  their  own  courage,  boasted 
loudly : 

"  Soon  's  we  kin  see  dem  Injuns,  we'll  blow  dem  clar  offer  de 
farm." 

On  the  second  day  out,  they  suddenly  discovered  a  large  body 
of  Indians  about  a  mile  away,  and  charged  down  upon  them. 
Hastily  placing  his  howitzer  on  a  small  knoll,  the  commander 
detailed  twenty  men  to  guard  it,  and  with  his  remaining  force, 
crossed  the  little  stream  to  meet  the  Indians.  Hardly  had  they 
reached  the  other  bank,  when  they  heard  a  terrific  yelling  in 
their  rear,  and  looking  back  to  the  slight  eminence  where  the 
gun  had«  been  left,  saw  the  guard  flying  towards  them  on  the 
wings  of  fear,  pursued. by  a  hundred  red-skins.  The  captured 
cannon  was  in  the  midst  of  another  large  party,  who  danced 
around  it  as  if  they  wished  to  invoke  the  great  divinity  of  gun- 
powder. Turning  his  command  back,  the  leader  soon  regained 
possession  of  the  gun,  which  the  savages  did  not  know  how  to 
use,  and  the  troops,  dismounting,  and  taking  position  there, 
finally,  after  two  hours'  hard  fighting,  gave  up  the  idea  of 
"blowing  de  Injuns  offer  de  farm." 

"  Heah  dey  come,"  the  darkeys  would  yell,  as  the  redskins 
charged  down  upon  them. 

"  Dere  muss  be  ten  tousand  of  dem." 

"  De  whole  country's  alive  wid  dem." 

"  Massa  Bill,  does  you  t'ink"  we's  eber  gwine  to  git  out  ob 
heah?" 

The  commander  was  wounded,  the  gun  was  useless. 

"  Do  you  think  there's  any  show  for  us  to  get  back  to  the 
fort,  Cody?"  asked  the  officer,  when  he  saw  that  the  Indians 
seemed  to  be  constantly  receiving  reinforcements. 

"  Yes,  I  think  there's  a  very  good  show  for  it,"  was  the  cheer- 
ful answer;  and  through  the  gathering  darkness  they  made  their 


530 


BUFFALO    BILL. 


BUFFALO    BILL.  531 

escape  and  arrived  in  safety  at  Fort  Hays,  although  several  men 
had  been  killed. 

A  business  venture  soon  promised  to  make  our  hero  a  million- 
aire. In  company  with  a  railroad  contractor  he  formed  a  project 
for  building  a  town  on  the  line  of  the  new  road.  The  site  was 
duly  surveyed  and  staked  off  into  lots,  one  of  which  was  present- 
ed to  any  one  who  would  build  on  it,  the  corner  lots  and  other 
desirable  situations  being  reserved  for  sale-at  fifty  dollars  each. 
."  Eome  was  not  built  in  a  day,"  but  this  modern  place  of  the  an- 
cient name  grew  in  a  month's  time  to  a  town  of  two  hundred 
frame  and  log  houses.  One  day  a  strange  gentleman  dropped 
into  the  store  that  Cody  and  his  partner  had  established,  and  af- 
ter some  conversation  on  general  subjects,  said  to  them: 

"Gentlemen,  you've  got  a  very  flourishing  little  town  here. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  a  partner  in  your  enterprise  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you.  "We've  got  too  good  a  thing  here  to  whack 
up  with  anybody." 

"  Well,  I'm  the  agent  of  the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad,  and  my 
business  is  to  locate  towns  for  the  company  along  the  line." 

"  I  reckon  we've  got  the  only  good  town  site  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  as  a  town  is  already  started,  we  have  saved  the  com- 
pany considerable  expense." 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  the  company  expects  to  make 
money  by  selling  lands  and  town  lots  ;  and  as  you  are  not  dispos- 
ed to  give  us  a  show,  or  share  with  us,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  start 
another  town  near  you.  Competition  is  the  life  of  trade,  you 
know." 

"  Start  your  town,  if  you  want  to.  We've  got  the  bulge  on  you, 
and  can  hold  it,"  was  the  confident  answer. 

The  very  next  day  Hays  City  was  begun,  one  mile  east  of 
Rome.  Here  the  railroad  company  would  locate  their  round 
houses  and  machine  shops,  Hays  City  was  to  be  the  business 
center,  and  to  Hays  City  went  all  Rome — literally,  for  the  inhab- 
itants tooktheir  houses.  Three  days  after  the  interview  related, 
our  speculators  stood  in  front  of  their  own  store  and  watched 
the  removal  of  the  last  remaining  building  in  Rome  to  the  rival 
town.  The  agent  proved  to  be  "  a  good  fellow,"  however,  and  the 
late  proprietors  of  Rome  spent  many  .days  in  buffalo-hunting  on 
the  surrounding  prairie.  Knowing  their  down-heartedness  over 
the  failure  of  their  speculation,  he  presented  each  of  them  with 
two  first-class  business  lots  in  Hays  City. 

34 


532  BUFFALO   BILL. 

Having  finally  concluded  that  it  was  useless  to  think  of  reviv- 
ing Borne,  the  two  devoted  all  their  time  to  fulfilling  their  rail- 
road contract. 

Being  pushed  for  horses,  Cody  put  his  favorite  saddle-horse, 
Brigham,  to  work;  but  he  had  about  given  up  the  idea  of  using 
him  for  this  purpose  when  one  of  the  men  called  out  that  there 
were  some  buffaloes  coming  over  the  hill. 

"I'll  go  after  the  herd,"  our  hero  answered;  "hitch  your 
horses  to  a  wagon  and  come  after  me,  and  we'll  bring  in  some 
fresh  meat  for  supper." 

His  saddle  had  been  left  at  the  camp,  a  mile  away;  so  taking 
the  harness  from  Brigham,  and  mounting  him  bareback,  he  start- 
ed after  the  game.  While  he  was  on  the  way,  he  saw  five  officers 
ride  from  the  fort,  evidently  bent  on  the  same  errand.  As  they 
came  nearer,  he  perceived  that  they  were  strangers,  having  but 
lately  arrived  in  that  part  of  the  country. 

"Hello,  my  friend,"  called  out  one,  whose  uniform  showed  he 
ranked  as  captain,  "  I  see  you  are  after  the  same  game  that  we 
are." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  saw  those  buffaloes  coming  over  the  hill,  and  as 
we  were  about  out  of  fresh  meat  I  thought  I  would  go  and  get 
some." 

Brigham  had  on  a  blind  bridle,  and  looked  like  a  common 
work-horse.  Accomplished  buffalo-hunter  as  he  was,  he  was  not, 
at  the  best,  as  stylish  or  handsome  an  animal  as  one  would  ex- 
pect to  see. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  catch  those  buffaloes  on  such  a  horse  as 
that?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  I  hope  so,  by  pushing  on  the  reins  hard  enough,"  replied 
Cody,  meekly. 

"You'll  never  catch  them  in  the  world,  my  man,"  the  captain 
assured  him;  "  it  requires  a  fast  horse  to  overtake  the  animals  on 
these  prairies." 

"  Does  it?  "  asked  Cody,  as  if  very  much  surprised  at  the  in- 
formation. 

"Yes;  but  come  along  with  us.  We  are  going  to  kill  them 
more  for  pleasure  than  for  anything  else,  and  don't  want  any- 
thing but  the  tongues  and  a  piece  of  tenderloin ;  so  you  can  have 
all  that  is  left." 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  captain,  and  will  follow  you." 

As  the  buffaloes  came  within  about  a  mile  of  them,  the  officers 


BUFFALO   BILL. 


533 


dashed  ahead.  Cody  noticed  that  the  herd  was  making  towards 
the  creek  for  water,  and  knowing  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
turn  them,  from  their  direct  course,  he  started  towards  the  creek 
to  head  them  off.  On  came  the  buffaloes,  rushing  past  him  less 
than  a  hundred  yards  away,  with  the  officers  at  thrice  that  dis- 
tance behind  them.  Pulling  the  blind-bridle  off  Brigham,  who 
started  at  the  top  of  his  speed  the  moment  he  knew  his  master 
was  ready,  Cody  rode  in  ahead  of  the  others,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments was  alongside  the  rear  buffalo.  Raising  his  rifle,  he  fired 
and  killed  the  animal  at  the  first  shot,  and  Brigham,  knowing 


BUFFALO  BILL   (w.  F.   CODY). 

perfectly  well  what  he  was  expected  to  do,  carried  him  to  the 
side  of  a  second.  It  was  but  a  few  moments'  work  to  despatch 
the  whole  herd  of  eleven,  twelve  shots  being  fired,  and  jumping 
from  his  horse,  he  turned  to  the  party  of  officers  as  they  rode  up, 
and  said : 

"Now  gentlemen,  allow  me  to  present  to  you  all  the  tongues 
and  tenderloins  you  may  wish  from  these  buffaloes." 

"Well,  I  never  saw  the  like  before/'  gasped  the  astonished 
captain;  "who  under  the  sun  are  you,  anyhow?" 

"My  name  is  Cody." 

Captain  Graham,  the  senior  officer  of  the  party,  afterward  en- 


534  BUFFALO   BILL. 

gaged  Cody  as  scout  and  guide,  and  often  hunted  in  company 
with  him. 

That  very  night  the  Indians  made  a  raid  on  the  horses  belong- 
ing to  the  contractors,  and  ran  off  five  or  six  of  their  best  work- 
teams.  At  daylight  the  next  morning  Cody  mounted  Brigham 
and  rode  over  to  Fort  Hays  to  procure  assistance  for  the  pursuit, 
and  Captain  Graham  was  ordered  out  with  his  company.  This 
was  a  part  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry,  and  though  they  had  never 
been  in  an  actual  fight  with  the  Indians,  the  soldiers  were  quite 
as  certain  of  their  ability  to  catch  the  band  they  were  after  as 
had  been  their  brethren  who  were  so  badly  defeated  on  a  pre- 
vious expedition. 

"  We's  agwine  to  sweep  de  red  debils  offer  de  face  ob  de  earf, 
sah,"  they  boasted,  as  they  marched  onward,  impatient  for  a 
fight  which  was  to  end  in  victory.  Capt.  Graham  was  a  brave 
man,  anxious  to  make  a  record  for  himself,  and  Cody  could  not 
follow  the  trail  quickly  enough  to  satisfy  his  anxiety  to  overtake 
the  redskins.  Controlling  his  impatience  at  the  necessary  delay 
as  well  as  he  could,  he  rode  onward,  and  was  soon  rewarded  by 
finding  the  trail  so  much  fresher  that  it  could  be  pursued  with  less 
difficulty.  The  Indians  had  evidently  thought  that  they  would 
not  be  pursued  beyond  a  certain  point,  and  had  made  no  effort, 
after  passing  that,  to  conceal  their  route.  The  camp  was  discov- 
ered from  the  brow  of  a  hill  a  mile  or  so  away  from  it,  and  the 
greatest  caution  now  became  necessary.  The  plan  was  that  they 
should  advance  silently  through  the  timber  in  the  night,  approach 
the  Indian  camp  as  closely  as  they  could  without  being  discov- 
ered, and  then  make  a  sudden  dash  upon  the  enemy.  Everything 
went  well  until  they  neared  the  point  where  they  must  leave  the 
woods;  when  one  of  the  "colored  gentlemen"  became  so  excited 
that  he  fired  off  his  gun. 

"  Charge !"  came  the  order  before  the  report  had  fairly  died 
away  on  the  still  night  air. 

Through  the  crackling  timber  they  rushed  as  fast  as  their 
horses  could  carry  them,  but  the  nature  of  the  ground  was  but  ill 
adapted  to  a  cavalry  charge,  and  the  Indians  were  far  away  on 
the  prairies  when  the  soldiers  reached  the  camp.  The  trail  was 
followed  a  short  distance  the  next  day,  but  there  was  no  chance 
of  catching  the  Indians,  and  they  returned  to  Fort  Hays.  The 
disobedience  of  the  darkey  who  had  fired  the  gun  was  punished 
by  compelling  him  to  walk  back  to  the  fort. 


BUFFALO   BILL.  535 

The  terminus  of  the  Kansas  Pacific  was  now  in  the  heart  of  the 
buffalo  country,  but  the  Indians  were  so  troublesome  that  it  was 
difficult  to  obtain  meat  for  the  twelve  hundred  workmen  em- 
ployed. It  was  necessary  to  employ  a  special  hunter,  whose 
knowledge  of  the  country  and  the  Indians  would  render  him  as 
safe  in  this  work  as  it  was  possible  for  a  solitary  white  man  to  be. 
For  this  dangerous  task  Cody  was  employed,  and  during  the  time 
that  he  engaged  in  it,  a  period  of  something  less  than  a  year  and 
a  half,  he  killed  more  than  four  thousand  buffaloes.  His  success 
as  a  hunter  of  the  huge  animals  had  already  made  him  famous, 
but  he  had  never  before  devoted  himself  so  steadily  to  it;  so  that 
it  was  reserved  for  the  army  of  railroad  hands  to  give  him  that 
title  which  has  clung  to  him  ever  since,  and  by  which  he  is  more 
widely  known  than  by  his  own  name — Buffalo  Bill. 

During  this  time  he  was  not  unmolested  by  the  Indians.  One 
day  in  the  spring  of  1868,  he  had  galloped  about  twenty  miles, 
and  had  reached  the  top  of  a  small  hill  overlooking  the  valley 
of  the  Smoky  Hill  River,  when  he  suddenly  saw  a  band  of  about 
thirty  Indians  less  than  half  a  mile  away.  Knowing  by  the  way 
they  jumped  on  their  horses  that  they  had  seen  him  as  soon  as 
he  came  in  sight,  he  wheeled  around  and  started  back  to  the 
railroad.  Brigham  knew,  as  well  as  his  master,  that  it  was  a 
race  for  life,  and  made  most  excellent  time.  A  few  jumps  took 
them  across  a  ravine,  but  looking  back  when  a  slight  ridge  be- 
yond had  been  gained,  Bill  saw  that  his  pursuers  seemed  to  be 
gaining  on  him.  Three  miles  farther,  and  there  were  eight  or 
nine  Indians  not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  away.  Brigham's 
long  gallop  had  evidently  told  upon  his  speed,  but  he  now  exert- 
ed himself  more  than  ever.  But  the  Indians  were  well-mounted, 
and  one  of  them  came  dangerously  near,  occasionally  sending  a 
rifle-ball  whistling  along.  A  shot  that  would  disable  Brigham 
would  be  fatal  to  his  rider,  and  realizing  what  danger  to  himself 
lay  in  the  Indian's  slightest  success,  Bill  suddenly  stopped,  turn- 
ed in  his  saddle  and  fired.  Down  went  both  the  Indian  and  his 
horse,  and  not  waiting  to  see  if  the  warrior  was  dead,  he  rode  on 
at  the  utmost  of  poor  tired  Brigham's  speed.  The  chase  was 
continued  until  they  came  within  three  miles  of  the  railroad 
track,  where  tw©  companies  of  soldiers  had  been  stationed  to  pro- 
tect the  workmen.  One  of  the  outposts  saw  the  Indians  pursu- 
ing Bill  across  the  prairie,  and  giving  the  alarm,  cavalrymen 
soon  came  galloping  to  the  rescue. 


536 


BUFFALO   BILL. 


The  Indians  had  no  mind  to  attend  such  a  reception,  and  soon 
turned,  and  the  running  was  now  in  the  other  direction.  Brig- 
ham  was  soon  surrounded  by  admiring  infantrymen  and  track- 
men, discussing  his  exploits;  and  the  way  he  was  rubbed  down 
and  walked  around  would  remind  one  of  the  winner  of  the  Derby. 

Some  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry  now  came  up,  and  forty  of  them, 
with  Bill  on  a  fresh  horse  offered  him  by  Capt.  Nolan,  put  out 
after  the  retreating  redskins.  The  Indians'  horses  were  badly 
blown  by  the  long  gallop  after  Brigham's  stride,  and  the  troop- 
ers' fresh  animals  steadily  gained  on  them.  Soon  they  were 


•    "KEEP  OFF!" — A  CENTER  SHOT. 

overtaken  and  one  by  one  eight  Indians  fell  before  the  rifles  of 
the  pursuers.  This  time  the  colored  cavalry  certainly  did  good 
service,  and  Buffalo  Bill  had  reason  to  be  grateful. 

"When  he  reached  the  place  where  his  ball  had  struck  the  horse 
of  the  foremost  pursuing  Indian,  he  found  that  the  bullet  had  hit 
the  animal  exactly  in  the  center  of  the  forehead,  causing  his  in- 
stant death.  He  was  a  beautiful  animal — too  good  for  a  maraud- 
ing redskin  to  ride  on  after  white  scalps. 

If  there  was  anything  Buffalo  Bill  had  a  weakness  for,  it  was 
in  the  direction  of  fine  horseflesh.  Like  all  plainsmen,  he  loved 


BUFFALO    BILL.  537 

the  animal  to  whose  fleetness  he  so  often  had  to  trust  his  life. 
When  he  returned  to  the  camp,  he  spent  some  time  in  petting  the 
noble  Brigham,  who  had  borne  him  so  finely  that  day,  and  the 
bond  of  affection  between  them  was  still  further  strengthened. 
Buffalo  Bill  declared  that  Brigham  was  the  best  horse  he  ever 
saw  or  owned  for  buffalo  chasing,  and  he  certainly  was  good 
enough  to  get  away  from  or  get  after  Indians,  as  many  an  occa- 
sion had  shown. 

On  another  occasion  Bill  had  gone  hunting,  and  having  killed 
fifteen  buffaloes,  he  and  Scotty,  the  butcher  who  accompanied 
him  to  cut  up  the  meat  and  load  it  into  a  light  wagon,  had  come 
within  about  eight  miles  of  their  destination,  when  they  suddenly 
saw  a  party  of  about  thirty  Indians  riding  out  of  the  head  of  a 
ravine.  Immediate  action  was  necessary.  The  hunter  could, 
of  course,  have  escaped  by  fast  riding,  but  he  could  not  leave  his 
companion,  for  whom  there  would  be  no  chance  of  safety.  Jump- 
ing to  the  ground,  they  unhitched  the  pair  of  mules  used  in  the 
wagon,  and  tied  them  and  the  horse  to  the  vehicle.  Piling  the 
buffalo  hams  around  the  wheels  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  a  breast- 
work, and  securing  their  extra  box  of  ammunition  and  three  or 
four  more  revolvers  which  they  always  carried,  they  crept  under 
the  wagon.  On  came  the  Indians,  urging  their  swift  and  hardy 
ponies  to  their  greatest  speed.  When  they  were  within  a  hun- 
dred yards,  the  two  white  men  opened  a  sudden  and  galling  fire 
upon  them.  Changing  their  course,  which  had  been  directly 
down  upon  the  wagon,  the  Indians  rode  around  and  around  their 
proposed  victims,  firing  as  they  rode.  Their  shots  killed  the  three 
animals,  but  the  two  men  were  unhurt.  Three  of  their  number  hav- 
ing been  killed,  and  others  wounded,  they  withdrew  for  a  time. 

Knowing  that  he  would  be  attacked  by  the  Indians  some  time, 
Buffalo  Bill  had  made  arrangements  to  obtain  assistance  when- 
ever it  should  be  needed.  A  smoke  in  the  direction  of  the  hunt- 
ing-ground was  the  signal  for  the  officers  at  the  end  of  the  track 
to  send  reinforcements.  Then,  when  the  Indians  gave  them  a 
little  leisure,  he  set  fire  to  the  grass  on  the  windward  side  of  the 
wagon.  The  fire  spread  rapidly,  and  as  the  dense  column  of 
smoke  arose,  they  knew  that  help  would  soon  come.  The  In- 
dians, not  understanding  this  movement,  again  opened  the  attack 
upon  them,  but  retreated  as  the  cavalry  advanced  across  the 
prairie.  Buffalo  Bill  and  Scotty  pointed  out  to  the  soldiers  the 
five  "good"  Indians  that  lay  on  the  field  of  battle. 


538  BUFFALO   BILL. 

Shortly  after  this  occurred  a  somewhat  unique  match,  being 
nothing  less  than  buffalo-killing  for  the  championship  and  five 
hundred  dollars  a  side.  The  contestants  were  Buffalo  Bill  and 
Billy  Comstock,  who  had  an  excellent  reputation  as  hunter,  scout 
and  guide.  It  will  be  remembered  that  he  scouted  for  Gen.  Cus- 
ter,  and  he  had  won  that  officer's  hearty  esteem.  He  was  treach- 
erously killed  by  the  Indians  not  long  after  the  match. 

The  hunt  was  to  begin  at  eight  in  the  morning,  and  last  eight 
hours.  Great  interest  was  felt  in  it,  not  only  on  the  plains,  but 
as  far  east  as  the  Mississippi,  one  excursion  party  of  St.  Louis- 
ans  numbering  about  a  hundred.  A  referee  was  to  follow  each 
man,  and  keep  count  of  the  buffaloes  he  killed.  The  first  run 
was  decidedly  in  Cody's  favor,  owing  to  the  method  he  adopted 
no  less  than  to  the  superior  accomplishments  of  Brigham.  Corn- 
stock  chased  his  buffaloes,  firing  at  them  as  they  bounded  along; 
so  that  his  game  lay  scattered  over  a  line  nine  miles  long.  Buffalo 
Bill  rode  towards  the  head  of  the  herd,  killing  the  leaders,  when 
the  bewildered  followers  would  circle  around  the  hunter.  Not 
only  did  he  kill  more  buffaloes  with  less  work  for  his  horse,  but 
his  game  lay  within  a  comparatively  small  circle.  The  result  of 
the  first  run — thirty-eight  to  twenty-three — was  duly  announced, 
and  the  hunters  and  their  friends  refreshed  with  champagne. 

They  had  not  rested  long,  when  they  saw  another  herd  com- 
ing towards  them,  and  charged  into  it.  It  consisted  chiefly  of 
cows  and  calves,  which  are  very  much  quicker  in  their  move- 
ments than  the  bulls,  and  only  a  small  drove,  so  that  the  result 
of  this  part  of  the  slaughter  was  not  large  ;  changing  the  score 
from  fifty-six  to  thirty-seven.  When  a  third  drove  was  found, 
Buffalo  Bill  concluded  that  as  he  had  now  some  odds  to  give  his 
opponent,  he  would  ride  without  saddle  or  bridle.  The  killing 
of  thirteen  buffaloes  occupied  the  remainder  of  the  eight  hours, 
and  Cody  was  declared  victor,  the  score  being  sixty-nine  to  forty- 
six. 

In  May,  1868,  the  railroad  was  finished  as  far  as  Sheridan,  and 
as  it  was  not  proposed  to  extend  it  any  farther  just  then,  Buffalo 
Bill's  services  as  a  hunter  were  "no  longer  required.  As  scouts 
were  in  great  demand  on  account  of  the  Indian  war  which  was 
then  raging,  he  concluded  to  engage  again  in  that  work.  Ko 
difficulty,  of  course,  was  experienced  in  securing  an  appointment 
as  scout  and  guide,  and  he  was  ordered  to  report  to  Fort  Larned 
for  duty. 


BUFFALO   BILL.  589 

Soon  after  his  appointment,  he  being  special  scout  to  Gen.  Ha- 
zen,  that  officer  left  Fort  Lamed  with  an  escort  of  twenty  sol- 
diers, with,  of  course,  Buffalo  Bill,  for  Fort  Harker.  The  party  ar- 
rived at  Fort  Zarah  at  noon  of  the  same  day,  where  Gen.  Hazen 
left  his  guard,  with  instructions  for  them  to  return  the  next  day; 
and  he  proceeded  alone  to  his  destination.  The  scout  did  not 
wish  to  wait,  and  telling  the  sergeant  in  command  of  the  squad 
what  he  intended  to  do,  saddled  up  his  mule  and  started  back 
alone.  He  had  gone  about  half  the  distance  when  he  was  sudden- 
ly "jumped"  by  about  forty  Indians,  who  came  dashing  up  to 
him,  extending  their  hands  with  the  greeting:  "How,  how!" 
Eecognizing  them  as  some  of  the  very  redskins  who  had  lately 
been  hanging  around  Fort  Lamed,  he  extended  his  hand ;  think- 
ing it  best  to  respond  thus  to  their  overtures,  although  they  had 
on  their  war-paint  and  were  evidently  on  the  war-path.  Stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  to  one  of  them,  it  was  grasped  tightly,  and  he 
was  pulled  violently  forward ;  at  the  same  moment  another  seiz- 
ed the  bridle  of  his  mule,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it 
he  was  completely  surrounded,  his  revolvers  jerked  from  the 
holsters,  and  he  was  rendered  nearly  senseless  by  a  blow  on  the 
head  from  a  tomahawk.  The  warrior  who  had  hold  of  the  bridle 
of  his  mule  dashed  off  towards  the  Arkansas  River,  and  after 
them  came  the  others,  yelling  with  delight. 

Looking  towards  the  river,  Buffalo  Bill  saw  on  the  opposite 
side  an  immense  village  moving  down  the  bank,  and  was  more 
than  ever  convinced  that  the  Indians  were  on  the  war-path.  It 
was  a  military  council,  then,  into  which  his  captors  ushered  him 
a  few  moments  later,  and  in  which  he  recognized  wily  old  Sa- 
tanta  and  several  others  whom  he  knew.  After  a  talk  among 
themselves,  which  lasted  for  some  time,  and  which  he  could  not 
understand,  Satanta  asked  him  where  he  had  been.  A  happy 
thought  struck  him,  and  he  answered  : 

"  I've  been  after  a  herd  of  whoa-haws." 

"  The  effect  was  electrical,  for  the  Indians  had  been  out  of 
meat  for  several  weeks,  and  the  large  herd  of  cattle  which  had 
been  promised  to  them  had  not  yet  arrived.  Eagerly  Satanta 
questioned  him  as  to  where  the  cattle  were. 

"  A  few  miles  back,"  was  the  reply;  "  Gen.  Hazen  sent  me  to 
tell  you  that  the  whoa-haws  were  coming,  and  were  intended  for 
your  people." 

"  Big  chief  says  whoa-haws  for  Satanta  and  his  warriors  ?" 


640 


BUFFALO    Bill. 


"  Yes,  I've  been  sent  to  bring  them  to  you."  But  the  KlowaS 
have  treated  me  badly  and  the  big  chief  will  be  very  angry.  Why 
have  your  young  men  abused  me  so  ?" 

"My  young  men  want  to  have  heap  fun,  and  want  to  see  if 
Long-Hair  very  brave." 

Buffalo  Bill  knew  that  this  contained  no  more  truth  than 
his  own  statements,  but  did  not  let  the  Indians  see  that  he 
thought  so. 

"  It's  a  rough  way  to  treat  friends." 


HOW,   HOW!- 


Turning  to  his  young  men,  Satanta  bade  them  restore  the  arms 
which  they  had  seized,  and  scolded  them  for  what  they  had  done. 
Having  learned  from  Buifalo  Bill  that  there  were  soldiers  with 
the  herd,  he  thought  it  was  best  to  get  the  cattle  without  fight- 
ing for  them.  After  a  short  council  of  the  chiefs,  he  again  went 
to  the  prisoner  and  asked  : 

"  You  go  'cross  the  river  and  bring  whoa-haws  down  to  the 
bank,  so  we  get  'em  ?" 

"  Of  course,  that  is  my  orders  from  G-en.  Hazen." 

"  Long-Hair  mustn't  be  angry  at  my  young  men ;  they  just 
want  some  fun.  You  want  warriors  go  with  you  ?" 


BtJfFALO   BILL.  54} 

"  No,  it  will  be  better  for  mo  to  go  alone ;  then  the  soldiers  can 
go  straight  on  to  Fort  Larned,  and  I'll  drive  the  herd  down  to 
the  river-bottom. 

Wheeling  his  mule  around,  he  departed  for  the  cattle,  which, 
it  is  needless  to  say,  existed  only  in  his  imagination.  But  the 
Indians  were  less  unsuspicious  than  he  had  thought  them,  for 
when  he  had  reached  the  farther  side  of  the  river,  he  looked  back 
and  saw  ten  or  fifteen  of  them  following  him.  "When  he  turned 
towards  Fort  Larned,  they  pursued  him  at  full  speed.  He  was 
still  four  miles  from  the  post,  when  he  heard  the  evening  gun. 
Little  did  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  think  that  there  was  a  man 
flying  for  his  life  from  the  Indians,-  and  trying  to  reach  the  post. 
The  pursuers  were  gaining  on  him,  two  or  three  being  only  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  behind  him  when  he  crossed  Pawnee  Fork,  two 
miles  from  the  fort.  Just  as  he  gained  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
stream,  he  saw  some  soldiers  not  far  off,  in  a  government  wagon. 
Yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  he  rode  up  to  them,  and  told  them 
that  the  Indians  were  after  him. 

"  Let's  drive  the  wagon  into  the  trees,"  suggested  Denver  Jim, 
"and  we'll  lay  for  them." 

Hurriedly  driving  in  among  the  trees  and  low  bushes,  they  se- 
creted themselves  and  waited  for  the  Indians.  Before  many  min- 
utes they  came.  Two  of  them  were  allowed  to  pass,  but  two  of 
the  next  group  fell  at  the  first  fire  from  the  bushes.  The  others 
discovered  that  they  were  riding  upon  deadly  rifles,  and  wheel- 
ing their  ponies,  retreated  in  hot  haste,  soon  joined  by  the  first 
two.  Scalping  the  two  Indians  that  they  had  killed,  securing 
their  arms  and  catching  their  horses,  Buffalo  Bill  and  his  com- 
panions made  their  way  to  the  post.  Here  he  learned  that  ear- 
lier in  the  day  Satanta  and  his  men  had' surprised  and  killed  a 
party  of  woodchoppers  and  herders,  seven  or  eight  men  in  all. 
The  soldiers  who  had  afforded  him  such  timely  assistance  had 
been  sent  out  for  the  bodies  of  these  men.  The  garrison,  hearing 
the  guns  in  this  last  engagement,  thought  that  the  chief  was  about 
to  attack  the  fort  with  all  his  forces;  all  was  excitement  there, 
and  every  preparation  being  made  to  withstand  the  attack.  Cap- 
tain Parker,  who  was  in  command,  was  endeavoring  to  get  some 
one  to  take  important  despatches  to  Gen.  Sheridan  at  Fort  Hays.^ 
None  of  the  scouts  were  willing  to  undertake  the  trip,  as  the 
night  was  so  dark  and  stormy  that  each  distrusted  his  own  ability 
to  find  the  way ;  besides  this,  there  was  the  danger  of  Indians. 


542  BUFFALO   BILL. 

Buffalo  Bill  knew  the  country  better  than  any  of  the  others, 
but  he  was  tired  with  his  long  day's  ride.  When  he  saw  that  no 
one  else  would  go,  he  offered  himself,  provided  he  should  be 
furnished  with  a  good  horse.  He  was  offered  a  choice  of  all  the 
horses  in  the  garrison,  and  set  out  at  ten  o'clock  for  his  sixty- 
five  miles'  ride.  The  journey  was  accomplished  without  injury 
to  the  scout.  Despatches  were  to  be  taken  to  Fort  Dodge,  and 
as  no  one  else  would  volunteer,  Cody  started  that  afternoon. 
Returning  from  Dodge  to  Larned,  thence  to  Hays,  made  a  trip 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty-five  miles  in  fifty-eight  riding  hours 
since  he  started  with  Gen.  Hazen ;  a  journey  mostly  in  the  night, 
over  a  wild  country,  where  there  were  no  roads  to  follow  and 
where  he  must  be  continually  on  the  outlook  for  Indians.  So 
well  did  G-en.  Sheridan  appreciate  his  willingness  to  undertake 
missions  which  meant  long  and  dangerous  rides,  that  he  appoint- 
ed him  chief  of  scouts  and  guide  for  the  Indian  expedition  upon 
which  the  Fifth  Cavalry  was  soon  to  be  sent. 

As  this  regiment  lay  in  camp  on  the  South  Fork  of  the  Solo- 
mon, Col.  Royal,  who  was  in  command,  requested  Cody  to  go 
out  and  kill  some  buffaloes  for  the  boys. 

"All  right,  Colonel,  send  along  wagons  to  bring  in  the  meat." 

"I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  sending  out  my  wagons  until  I  know 
there  is  something  to  be  brought  in/'  replied  the  colonel,  with 
dignity  ;  "  kill  your  buffaloes  first  and  then  I'll  send  out  the  wa- 
gons." 

Cody  said  nothing,  went  out,  killed  a  half-dozen  buffaloes,  and 
returning,  asked  the  colonel  to  send  out  his  wagons  for  the  meat. 
The  next  afternoon  Col.  Royal  again  requested  him  to  go  out 
and  get  some  fresh  buffalo  meat.  Nothing  was  said  on  either 
side  about  wagons,  and  the  officer  expected  to  have  to  send  them 
out  when  the  hunter  returned.  Riding  out  some  distance,  Buffalo 
Bill,  coming  up  with  a  small  herd,  managed  to  get  seven  of  them 
headed  straight  for  the  camp.  Instead  of  shooting  them  he  ran 
them  at  full  speed  right  into  the  camp,  and  then  killed  them  all 
in  rapid  succession.  Col.  Royal  came  up  to  him,  and  angrily  de- 
manded an  explanation. 

"  I  can't  allow  any  such  business  as  this,  Cody.  What  do  you 
mean  by  it  ?" 

"  I  didn't  care  about  asking  for  wagons  this  time,  colonel,  so  I 
thought  I  would  make  the  buffaloes  furnish  their  own  transpor- 
tation." 


BUFFALO    BILL.  548 

The  colonel  had  no  more  to  say;  the  answer  was  unanswerable. 

Encamping  on  Saline  Hiver,  Major  Brown  had  his  private  am- 
bulance brought  out,  and  invited  Cody  to  accompany  him  to  the 
railroad  station  to  meet  Lieut.  Bache,  who  was  expected  to  fill  a 
vacancy  in  his  battalion.  Arriving  at  the  station  just  as  the  train 
got  in,  they  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  lieutenant,  and  giving 
him  the  back  seat  in  the  ambulance,  headed  for  camp.  Major 
Brown  was  inclined  to  be  mischievous,  and  had  said,  as  they  set 
out: 


MAKING   BUFFALOES    FURNISH   THEIR   OWN  TRANSPORTATION. 


"Now,  Cody,  when  we  come  back,  we'll  give  Bache  a  lively 
ride  and  shake  him  up  a  little." 

The  road  was  rough,  and  the  night  was  dark.  Taking  the 
reins  from  his  driver,  Major  Brown  at  once  began  whipping  the 
mules.  To  further  encourage  them,  he  pulled  out  his  revolver 
and  fired  several  shots.  Onward  they  jolted. 

"Is  this  the  way  you  break  in  all  your  lieutenants,   major?3 
inquired  the  new  comer,  good-humoredly. 

"Oh,  no;  I  don't  do  this  as  a  regular  thing;  but  it's  the  way 
we  frequently  ride  in  this  country." 

Battling  down  a  steep  hill  at  full  speed,  just  as  they  reachec 
the  bottom,  the  front  wheels  struck  a  ditch  over  which  the  mules 


544  BUFFALO    BILL. 

had  jumped.  The  sudden  stoppage  nearly  pitched  Major  Brown 
and  Cody  out  on  the  wheels.  Lieutenant  Bache  came  flying 
headlong  to  the  front  of  the  vehicle. 

"  Take  a  back  seat,  lieutenant." 

"Major,  I  have  just  left  that  seat." 

The  wagon  was  soon  lifted  out  of  the  ditch  and  they  drove  in- 
to camp  in  fine  style ;  but  the  account  which  Lieutenant  Bache 
gave  of  his  ride  caused  it  to  be  remembered  for  a  long  time  by 
the  officers  of  the  Fifth. 

Our  scout  won  the  favor  of  Gen.  Carr,  who  knew  the  habitual 
exaggerations  of  the  men  belonging  to  this  branch  of  the  service, 
and  did  not,  until  he  had  proved  him,  think  much  of  one  who  said 
nothing  about  himself.  Finding,  July  11,  1869,  that  they  were 
nearing  the  Indians  with  whom  they  had  had  several  unimport- 
ant skirmishes,  and  whom  they  had  been  trailing  for  some  time, 
he  and  his  Pawnee  companions  advanced  cautiously,  and  at  last 
discovered  the  village  encamped  in  the  sandhills  south  of  the 
South  Platte,  at  Summit  Springs.  Leaving  the  Pawnees  to 
keep  watch,  Cody  returned  to  the  regiment  about  ten  miles  in 
the  rear,  and  reported  to  Gen.  Carr.  At  the  scout's  suggestion 
the  troops  were  ordered  to  make  a  circuit  to  the  north  •  so  that 
if  the  Indians  had  detected  their  presence,  they  might  attack  the 
village  on  a  side  where  they  were  not  expected. 

Thus  avoiding  discovery  by  the  Sioux  scouts,  and  confident  of 
giving  them  a  complete  surprise,  Gen.  Carr  kept  the  command 
wholly  out  of  sight,  halting  to  give  final  orders  when  within  a  mile 
of  the  village.  Halting  again  on  the  top  of  the  hill  overlooking 
the  Indian  camp,  the  signal  was  given  to  charge,  and  the  cavalry 
dashed  down  upon  the  village.  The  Sioux  had  driven  up  their 
horses  and  were  just  getting  ready  to  make  a  move  of  the  camp 
when  they  saw  the  soldiers  riding  down  upon  them.  Many  of 
them  jumped  upon  their  ponies,  and  leaving  everything  else 
behind,  advanced  to  meet  the  charge;  but,  when  they  saw  the  force 
with  which  they  would  have  to  cope,  rode  rapidly  away,  while 
those  not  fortunate  enough  to  be  mounted,  fled  for  safety  to  the 
neighboring  hills.  Through  the  village  rode  the  soldiers,  firing 
right  and  left,  and  the  scene  quickly  became  one  of  the  wildest 
confusion. 

"  Keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  white  women,"  had  been  the  order 
given  by  Gen.  Carr,  who  was  confident  that  the  Sioux  had  such 
captives  among  them.  The  company  which  had  been  ordered  to 


BUFFALO   BILL.  545 

take  possession  of  the  village  after  its  capture  soon  found  the 
dead  body  of  one  white  woman,  the  head  cloven  by  a  hatchet, 
and  near  by  lay  another,  wounded.  The  latter  was  a  Swede, 
and  could  not  talk  English,  but  through  a  soldier  of  her  own 
nationality  they  learned  that  both  wounds  had  been  the  work  of 
a  squaw  who  wished  to  prevent  their  telling  how  cruelly  they 
had  been  treated. 

The  booty  was  extremely  rich.  Much  of  the  property  acquired 
by  recent  raids  upon  white  settlers,  considerable  stores  of  gold 
and  silver,  besides  eight  hundred  ponies  and  mules,  fell  into  their 
hands.  A  hundred  and  forty  Indians  had  been  killed,  a  hundred 
and  twenty  squaws  and  pappooses  were  taken  prisoners.  The  two 
hundred  lodges,  with  all  the  dried  buffalo  meat  and  other  provi- 
sions, were  burned,  and  the  body  of  the  murdered  white  woman 
buried.  But  the  Sioux  had  not  fled;  they  had  only  retreated, 
to  advance  again  upon  the  attacking  party.  Having  recovered 
from  their  surprise,  they  rode  back  towards  the  village,  and  the 
whole  prairie  was  soon  covered  with  the  combatants. 

Along  the  Indian  line  of  battle  rode  the  chief,  Tall  Bull, 
mounted  on  a  spirited  bay  horse,  encouraging,  cheering,  urging, 
entreating  his  men  to  follow  him  and  fight  until  they  died. 
Cody,  on  the  skirmish  line,  could  hear  him  telling  them  that 
they  had  lost  everything,  that  they  were  ruined,  that  the  white 
soldiers  must  be  driven  back.  Treacherous  and  cunning  as  ho 
was,  with,  perhaps,  an  unquenchable  thirst  for  liquor,  and  not 
hesitating  to  beg  anything  whatever  from  the  white  man,  we  can 
not  but  respect  the  courage  of  the  man,  the  devotion  of  the  leader 
to  the  cause  of  his  race,  as  he  urged  his  warriors  onward  to  vic- 
tory or  death.  To  Buffalo  Bill,  with  the  mad  fire  of  battle  cours- 
ing in  his  veins,  this  was  but  a  Sioux,  one  of  the  tribe  that  could 
not  be  trusted,  and  he  determined  to  deprive  the  Indians  of  their 
leader. 

Creeping  to  a  ravine  the  heait  of  which  was  often  passed  by 
Tall  Bull  as  he  rode  to  and  fro  among  his  men,  he  waited  his 
opportunity.  Not  many  minutes  had  passed  before  it  came,  and 
raising  his  gun,  he  fired  at  the  mark,  scarcely  thirty  yards  away. 
The  chief  reeled  and  fell  from  his  saddle,  and  the  frightened 
horse  dashed  into  the  ranks  of  the  cavalry.  The  soldier  who  se- 
cured him  had  seen  his  rider  fall,  and  readily  relinquished  him 
to  the  scout.  Mounting  his  prize,  he  rode  down  to  where  the 
prisoners  were,  only  to  be  greeted  by  the  pitiful  crying  of  a 
1 


546 


BUFFALO    BILL. 


squaw,  the  wife  of  Tall  Bull,  the  same  who  had  killed  the  one 
white  woman  and  wounded  the  other. 

The  animal,  which  his  captor  named  Tall  Bull,  after  its  form- 
er owner,  was  for  four  years  afterwards  the  fastest  runner  in  the 
state  of  Nebraska.  A  pony  obtained  at  this  fight,  and  named 
Powder  Face,  became  as  noted  through  the  stories  of  Ned  Bunt- 
line  as  Tall  Bull  by  his  speed.  Cody  soon  made  Tall  Bull  pay. 
At  first  no  one  would  bet  on  the  horse;  but  he  proved  more 

successful  on  his  native 
prairies  than  had  "Old 
Mountain"  some  years 
before  in  St.  Louis. 
Powder  Pace,  too, 
proved  to  be  an  excel- 
lent racer,  jumping 
away  so  quickly  on  his 
first  trial  that  he  left 
his  rider  sitting  on  the 
ground ;  but  he  dashed 
ahead  and  won  the  race 
without  him.  Powder 
Face  was  afterwards 
stolen  by  the  Indians, 
and  there  was  no  horse 
fleet  enough  to  over- 
take the  thief. 

We  now  pass  over 
nearly  two  years,  spent 
in  scouting  and  hunt- 
ing. He  was  guide  to 
several  minor  expedi- 
tions against  the  In- 
dians during  this  time, 
but  there  is  but  little 
interest  attaching  to  the  incidents  of  them.  He  also  accompanied 
several  English  gentlemen  upon  buffalo  hunts,  but  however  exci- 
ting to  the  hunters  from  over  the  sea  the  chase  may  have  been, 
it  was  not  a  circumstance  to  the  match  with^Billy  Comstock. 

In  the  spring  of  1871  we  find  him  appointed  justice  of  the  peace, 
at  the  desire  of  Gen.  Emory,  who  was  much  annoyed  by  the  pet- 
ty offences  which  the  civilians  about  the  post  committed.  Just 


THE  SHOOTING  OF  TALL  BULL. 


BJI.L. 


647 


after  he  had  received  his  commission,  and  before  he  was  supplied 
with  blank  forms  or  statute  books,  a  man  came  rushing  up  to  his 
house,  to  get  out  a  writ  of  replevin,  to  recover  possession  of  a 
horse  which  a  stranger  was  taking  out  of  the  county. 
35 


548  BUFFALO  BILL, 

"Where's  the  fellow  that's  got  your  horse?"  asked  Justice 
Cody. 

"  Going  up  the  road,  about  two  miles  away,"  was  the  answer. 

"All  right;  I'll  get  the  writ  ready  in  a  minute  or  two." 

Saddling  up  his  horse,  and  taking  his  gun,  he  said  to  the  man : 

"  That's  the  best  writ  of  replevin  I  know  of;  come  along,  and 
we'll  get  that  horse,  or  know  the  reason  why." 

Overtaking  the  stranger,  who  was  driving  a  herd  of  horses, 
the  following  dialogue  ensued  : 

"  Hello,  sir  !  I  am  an  officer,  and  have  an  attachment  for  that 
horse." 

"  Well,  sir,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"  I  propose  to  take  you  and  the  horse  back  to  the  post." 

"  You  can  take  the  horse,  but  I  haven't  time  to  go  with  you." 

"  You'll  have  to  take  time,  or  pay  the  costs  here  and  now." 

"  How  much  are  the  costs  ?" 

"Twenty  dollars." 

"  Here's  your  money." 

The  stranger  went  on  his  way,  the  complainant  went  home 
with  his  horse,  and  the  justice  pocketed  the  costs.  After  a  while 
he  learned  more  about  the  formalities  of  law,  but  he  could  not 
have  complied  more  faithfully  with  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  often 
administered. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  1871,  Cody  accompanied  on  a  hunting  ex- 
pedition a  large  party,  which  numbered,  among  others,  Gen. 
Sheridan,  and  many  noted  newspaper  men  and  soldiers.  Per- 
haps the  pleasure  enjoyed  at  this  time  had  something  to  do  with 
the  order  which,  later  in  the  winter,  reached  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  as  his  regiment  was  leaving  for  Ari- 
zona: "Don't  take  Cody  with  you."  Certain  it  is  that  when 
preparations  were  being  made  for  a  big  buffalo  hunt  for  the  Eus- 
sian  Grand  Duke  Alexis,  in  January,  1872,  he  was  selected  to 
show  the  foreign  visitor  how  to  kill  buffaloes.  The  friendly 
Sioux  chief,  Spotted  Tail,  was  induced  to  come,  with  a  number 
of  his  warriors,  to  show  how  the  Indian  looked  and  acted  on  his 
native  plains. 

The  Eussian  prince  arrived  at  the  appointed  time,  Buffalo  Bill 
was  introduced  to  him,  and  after  the  Indians  had  given  their  ex- 
hibition of  horsemanship  and  sham  fights,  and  celebrated  a  grand 
war-dance,  they  retired  to  dream  of  the  buffalo  hunt  the  next 
day.  With  a  commendable  desire  to  lose  as  little  time  as  possi- 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


549 


blo,  the  grand  duke  had  asked  many  questions  of  his  guide  and 
tutor :  "  How  do  you  shoot  buffaloes  ?  What  kind  of  a  weapon 
do  you  use  ?  Any  particular  style  ?  Am  I  going  to  have  a  good 
horse?"  Cody  assured  him  that  he  would  have  Buckskin  Joe 
to  ride,  a  steed  whose  accomplishments  in  the  matter  of  buffalo 
hunting  were  equalled  only  by  those  of  the  late  Brigham ;  and 
that  all  he  would  have  to  do,  after  getting  into  a  herd,  would  be 
to  sit  on  the  horse's  back  and  fire  away. 

Much  was  said  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day  about  this  hunt, 
and  the  grand  duke's  success.    With  a  truly  republican  desire  to 


SHOWING  THE  GRAND   DUKE   HOW  TO  KILL  BUFFALOES. 

detract  from  a  prince's  merit  and  add  to  a  citizen's,  one  asserted 
that  Buffalo  Bill  killed  Alexis'  first  buffalo  for  him ;  another, 
equally  ill-natured,  insisted  that  Cody  held  the  animal  while  the 
prince  shot  it.  Having  given  these  two  versions,  the  veracious 
historian  proceeds  to  state  the  third  and  more  credible,  since 
supported  by  the  testimony  of  Buffalo  Bill  himself.  They  had 
not  gone  far  before  they  saw  a  buffalo  herd,  and  were  soon  in  the 
midst  of  it.  Preferring  at  first  to  use  his  pistol,  Alexis  emptied 
the  six  chambers  without  producing  the  slightest  effect.  Riding 
up  to  his  side,  Cody  exchanged  revolvers  with  him,  and  the  six 
shots  in  the  second  went  the  way  of  those  in  the  first.  Seeing 


550  BUFFALO 

that  the  animals  would  make  their  escape  without  his  killing  one 
of  them,  Cody  rode  up  to  the  prince  again,  gave  him  his  gun,  and 
told  him  to  urge  on  his  horse  close  to  the  buffaloes,  and  he  would 
give  him  the  word  when  to  shoot.  A  blow  from  his  master's 
whip,  and  Buckskin  Joe,  in  a  few  jumps,  carried  his  rider  within 
ten  feet  of  a  huge  bull. 

"Now  is  your  time  ! "  cried  the  teacher ;  the  pupil  fired,  and 
down  went  the  buffalo.  Stopping  his  horse,  the  grand  duke 
dropped  his  gun  and  waved  his  hat,  the  suite  came  galloping  up, 
and  soon  the  champagne  corks  began  to  fly  in  honor  of  his  suc- 
cess in  killing  the  first  buffalo  in  the  hunt.  A  "  scratch"  shot  on 
the  way  home  brought  down  another,  and  the  hides  and  heads 
of  both  animals  were  carefully  preserved.  The  imperial  pupil 
seems  to  have  improved  rapidly  under  the  tuition  of  the  famous 
plainsman,  for  within  the  two  or  three  days  which  they  spent  in 
camp,  he  killed  eight. 

Desiring  to  see  an  Indian  buffalo-hunt,  one  was  arranged  in 
which  the  Sioux  used  their  more  primitive  weapons;  the  long 
iron-tipped  lance  of  tough  wood,  and  the  bow  and  arrow.  One 
chief  drove  an  arrow  entirely  through  a  buffalo,  to  the  grand 
duke's  astonishment. 

Eeturning,  Gen.  Sheridan  called  out  from  the  carriage : 

"  Cody,  get  in  here  and  show  the  duke  how  you  can  drive. 
Reed  will  exchange  places  with  you  and  ride  your  horse." 

Later,  as  they  approached  Medicine  Creek: 

"  Shake  'em  up  a  little,  Bill,  and  give  us  some  old-time  stage- 
driving." 

No  more  was  needed.  On  the  horses  bounded,  faster  and  fast- 
er, until  they  came  to  a  steep  hill  which  led  down  into  the  valley 
of  the  Medicine ;  straight  down  the  hill  they  went,  bounding 
along  over  the  ruts,  while  both  general  and  prince  were  kept 
busy  holding  on  to  their  seats.  In  fine  old  style  they  dashed  into 
the  camp  where  they  were  to  obtain  a  fresh  relay,  but  the  grand 
duke  begged  to  be  excused  from  any  more  of  the  same  kind. 
But  although  preferring  to  go  a  little  slower  than  he  had  been 
driven,  he  was  not  ungrateful  for  the  attention  paid  him,  and 
made  Cody  several  valuable  presents. 

We  next  find  our'  hero  in  the  eastern  states,  whither  he  had 
been  cordially  invited  by  many  of  those  whom  he  had  accompa- 
nied on  hunts.  Attending  one  evening,  while  in  New  York,  the 
representation  of  u  Buffalo  Bill,  the  King  of  Border  Men,"  he 


BUFFALO    BILL. 


551 


was  called  upon  the  stage  by  the  audience,  as  soon  as  his  presence 
m  the  theater  was  known.  Of  the  speech  with  which  he  respond- 
ed no  record  remains,  for  no  one  heard  it;  such  was  his  embar- 
rassment that  he  could  not  utter  a  word.  Judge  of  his  surprise 
when  the  manager  offered  him  a  handsome  salary  to  take  the 
part  of  Buffalo  Bill  himself!  The  offer  was  declined,  and  only 
the  indomitable  perseverance  of  Ned  Buntline  induced  him  to  go 
upon  the  stage  in  the  fall  of  the  same  year. 


AN  ARROW  THROUGH  A  BUFFALO. 

In  the  meantime,  he  had  been  elected  a  member  of  the  Neb- 
raska Legislature,  chiefly  by  the  efforts  of  his  friends,  as  ho  cared 
very  little  about  it  and  took  no  pains  to  secure  an  election.  He 
resigned  his  seat  almost  immediately,  and  with  Texas  Jack,  went 
to  Chicago  to  meet  Buntline.  Disgusted  by  the  facts  that  a  per- 
formance was  to  take  place  in  four  nights  from  that  date,  that 
the  drama  was  not  written,  the  company  formed,  or  the  "  stars  " 
trained,  the  manager  of  the  theater  where  they  were  to  play  re- 
fused to  have  anything  to  do  with  it;  but  Buntlino  rented  the 
house,  wrote  his  drama  in  four  hours,  set  his  stars  to  studying, 
went  out  and  engaged  the  minor  actors,  came  back  and  trained 
his  stars,  and  actually  had  everything  in  readiness  at  the  time 
set.  The  hero  forgot  his  part  when  he  came  before  the  audience, 


552 


BUFFALO    BILL. 


but  skillfully  encouraged  by  Buntline,  supplied  its  place  by  orig- 
inal speeches,  and  brought  down  the  house  by  describing  a  hunt 
with  a  businessman  of  that  city,  whom  everybody  knew. 

Wild  Bill  joined  the  company  in  the  season  of  1873-4,  when 
the  original  stars  were  already  experienced  actors.  He  urged 
upon  his  friend  that  they  were  making  fools  of  themselves,  and 
all  the  people  were  laughing  at  them  ;  Buffalo  Bill  replied  that 
he  didn't  care  for  that,  as  long  as  they  came  and  bought  tickets. 

It  is  but  right  to 
say  here  that  Wild 
Bill's  message 
when  he  finally  left 
the  troupe  did  not 
result  in  any  per- 
manent estrange- 
ment between  the 
two  plainsmen,  and 
although  he  re- 
mained firm  in  the 
determination  not 
to  have  anything 
more  to  do  with 
the  "old  show/' 
they  were  always 
the  best  of  friends. 
For  some  years 
now,  we  find  the 
time  passed  in 

much  the  same  way ;  traveling  in  the  dramatic  season  from  place 
to  place,  hunting  and  scouting  during  the  summer.  In  1876,  we 
learn  that  the  theatrical  season  closed  somewhat  earlier  than  usu- 
al, for  the  Sioux  war  had  begun,  and  our  hero  "  snuffed,  like  a 
charger,  the  wind  of  the  powder."  Proceeding  to  the  west,  he 
expected  to  be  in  time  to  join  the  expedition  under  Gen.  Crook, 
who  wished  to  engage  him  as  scout;  but  learning  that  he  was  too 
late  to  do  this,  and  that  G-en.  Carr  with  the  Fifth  Cavalry  was 
on  his  way  to  join  Gen.  Crook,  he  accepted  the  position  of  guide 
and  chief  of  scouts  under  his  old  commander,  with  his  old  regi- 
ment. 

Operating  on  the  South  Fork  of  the  Cheyenne  and  at  the  foot 
of  the  Black  Hills  for  about  two  weeks,  they  had  several  skir- 


BUFFALO   BILL.  553 

mishes  with  small  bands  of  roving  Indians,  who  were  easily  re- 
pulsed ;  and  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  they  had  driven  all 
the  redskins  out  of  that  section  of  the  country,  the  regiment 
started  back  to  Fort  Laramie.     But  they  had  not  gone  far,  when 
a  scout  arrived  in  camp  with  the  terrible  tidings  of  the  massacre 
on  the  Little  Big  Horn.     There  was  no  fear  for  themselves,  yet 
the  news  spread  dismay  through  the  camp,  and  many  a  soldier 
vowed  to  avenge  "the  flower  of  our  knighthood,  the  whole  ar- 
my's pride ; " — and  the  roughest  man  of  the  regiment  * 
"  Had  no  trouble  to  muster 
A  tear,  or  perhaps  a  hundred, 
At  the  news  of  the  death'  of  Custer." 

The  Fifth  was  ordered  to  proceed  at  once  to  Fort  Fetterman, 
and  thence  join  Gen.  Crook.  But  the  same  evening  that  the  scout 
arrived  with  the  news  and  the  order,  came  another,  with  the  in- 
formation that  eight  hundred  Cheyennes  were  on  their  way  to 
join  Sitting  Bull.  Deciding  to  take  the  responsibility  of  delay 
in  obeying  orders,  Gen.  Merritt,  who  was  now  in  command  of 
the  Fifth,  selected  five  hundred  men  to  intercept  the  Cheyennes. 
Making  a  forced  march  back  to  Warbonnet  Creek,  they  arrived 
there  before  the  Indians.  That  the  enemy  had  not  crossed,  was 
ascertained  by  Cody,  who,  on  his  way  back  to  the  command,  dis- 
covered a  large  body  of  Indians  coming  up  from  the  south.  They 
proved  to  be  the  Cheyennes,  and  the  cavalrymen  immediately 
withdrew  out  of  sight  until  an  attack  should  be  ordered,  while 
Gen.  Merritt,  accompanied  by  Cody  and  two  or  three  aides,  went 
on  a  reconnoissance  to  a  neighboring  hill. 

From  the  summit  of  this  they  saw  that  the  Indians  were  march- 
ing almost  directly  towards  them,  while  a  body  of  fifteen  or  twen- 
ty dashed  off  to  the  direction  in  which  the  troops  had  come  the 
night  before.  For  a  moment  our  party  could  not  discover  the 
reason  for  this  maneuver,  but  it  was  readily  understood  when 
they  descried  that  this  detachment  was  chasing  two  soldiers, 
who  must  be  bringing  despatches  to  Gen.  Merritt.  Fearing  that 
they  would  succeed  in  intercepting  the  messengers,  the  command- 
er yet  did  not  wish  to  betray  the  presence  of  his  troops  by  send- 
ing soldiers  to  their  rescue.  Cody  suggested  that  when  the  cour- 
iers came  closer  to  the  command,  and  the  Indians  were  about  to 
charge,  he  be  allowed  to  take  the  scouts  and  cut  them  off  from 
the  main  body  of  the  tribe. 

"All  right,"  said  Gen.  Merritt ;  "  if  you  can  do  that,  go  ahead." 


554  BUFFALO    BILL. 

Bushing  back  to  the  command,  and  selecting  fifteen  men,  he  re- 
turned to  the  point  of  observation. 

"  Go  in  now,  Cody,"  ordered  the  general,  "  and  be  quick  about 
it.  They  are  about  to  charge  on  the  couriers." 

Bashing  down  the  hill,  they  charged  upon  the  Indians.  The 
running  fight  lasted  but  a  few  moments,  the  Indians  who  were 
not  killed  riding  off  towards  the  main  body;  then  they  turned 
upon  the  pursuers,  and  a  young  Indian,  decked  in  all  the  paint 
and  ornaments  of  a  war-chief,  called  out  to  the  leader  of  the 
scouts,  in  the  Cheyenne  tongue: 

"  I  know  you,  Long-Hair  ;  if  you  want  to  fight,  come  and  fight 
me." 

It  was  a  challenge  not  to  be  disregarded.  Galloping  towards 
each  other,  they  diminished  the  distance  between  them  to  thirty 
yards  before  a  shot  was  fired ;  raising  his  rifle  the  scout  took  aim 
and  fired,  and  the  Indian's  horse  fell  to  the  ground.  Almost  at 
the  same  moment  his  own  horse  stumbled  and  fell,  but  it  was  on- 
ly a  moment's  work  for  each  to  free  himself  from  his  fallen 
steed.  They  were  now  not  more  than  twenty  paces  apart.  Rais- 
ing their  rifles,  both  took  aim  at  the  same  instant;  one  ball 
whistled  past  the  scout,  without  harming  him ;  the  other  struck 
the  Indian  in  the  breast,  and  he  fell. 

Even  as  he  struck  the  ground,  his  enemy  was  upon  him,  and 
while,  as  he  stood  so  far  in  advance  of  his  little  command,  a  body 
of  two  hundred  Indians  charged  down  upon  the  scout,  he  stopped 
over  the  prostrate  savage,  and  having  with  one  stroke  of  his 
knife  severed  the  scalp-lock  from  the  head,  swung  the  reeking 
trophy  and  its  gorgeous  adornments  in  the  air  with  the  words: 
"  The  first  scalp  for  Custer  ! " 

A  company  of  soldiers  had  been  ordered  to  his  rescue,  and  they 
came  not  a  moment  too  soon.  Seeing  that  the  Indians  could  not 
be  ambushed,  G-en.  Merritt  ordered  out  the  whole  regiment.  The 
fight  did  not  last  long,  and  the  Indians  soon  began  a  flying  re- 
treat. Pursued  for  thirty-five  miles,  they  were  forced  to  aban- 
dont  everything  that  impeded  their  flight  to  the  Eed  Cloud 
agency,  while  the  troops  followed  them.  Arrived  there,  Cody 
learned  that  the  Indian  he  had  killed  was  Yellow  Hand,  the  son 
of  a  leading  chief  of  the  Cheyennes.  The  old  chief  offered  four 
mules  for  the  adornments  of  his  son,  but  they  were  not  for  sale. 
Accompanying  the  Big  Horn  and  Yellowstone  expedition,  after 
the  Fifth  had  joined  Gen.  Crook,  it  is  too  old  a  story  to  tell  of  his 


BUFFALO   BILL. 


555 


gallant  services  in  carrying  despatches  through  a  country  infest- 
ed by  hostile  Indians,  besides  presenting  all  the  difficulties  of  a 


THE   FIRST   SCALP  FOR   CUSTER. 


wild  region  to  the  night  traveler.  Where  other  scouts  dared  not 
go,  Buffalo  Bill  was  always  ready  to  volunteer.  So  we  leave 
him,  remembering  that  if  we  omit  mention  of  later  incidents,  it  is 
not  because  they  are  unworthy  of  him ;  but  it  must  be  remember- 
ed that  what  would  to  others  be  exciting  adventures,  are  to  him 
but  repetitions,  shadows,  of  the  events  of  his  earlier  life.  • 


556 


TEN   YEARS    OF    INDIAN   WARFARE. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

TEN  YEAES  OF  INDIAN  WAEFAEE. 

T~N  tracing  the  course  of  the  contest  between  Indians  and  white 
-L  men,  during  late  years,  it  is  not  our  purpose  to  go  back  as 
far  as  the  massacres  by  the  Sioux  of  the  Minnesota  settlers  in 
1862,  when  the  savages  boldly  invaded  villages  with  all  the  hor- 
rors of  their  warfare.  These  appealed  but  slightly  to  the  popu- 
lar interest  while  the  great  Civil  War  was  absorbing  every  one; 
nor  even  do  we  follow  the  story  downward  for  the  next  few  years. 
Beginning  with  the  early  years  of  the  last  decade,  we  trace  out, 
from  the  daily  and  weekly  papers,  and  from  the  few  books  into 
which  these  late  events  have  been  crystallized,  the  history  of 
the  recent  Indian  wars. 

The  causes  of  the  conflicts,  which  are  constantly  alarming  the 
frontier,  are  not  hard  to  discover.  The  very  fact  that  there  are 
found  men  ready  to  fight  in  any  given  cause,  proves  that  it  is 
not  wholly  bad.  "It  takes  two  to  quarrel,"  says  the  old  pro- 
verb, and  in  every  quarrel  there  must  be  wrong  on  both  sides, 
however  unequally  distributed.  Endeavoring,  then,  to  steer 
clear  equally  of  those  who  insist  that  "Indians  are  Indians"  (as 
they  undoubtedly  are),  that  there  is  no  trust  to  be  placed  in  any 
of  them,  and  that  they  ought  to  be  exterminated  whenever  op- 
portunity offers,  and  of  the  author  of  "A  Century  of  Dishonor," 
who  regards  all  such  wars  as  the  outcome  of  the  Government's 
bad  faith,  let  us  remember  that  the  United  States  deliberately 
breaks  the  most  solemn  treaties  with  the  savage  tribes  of  the 
West,  and  that  the  Indians  are  not  the  noble  red  men  who  figure 
in  Cooper's  novels.  But  of  the  difference  between  the  ideal  In- 
dian, pausing  from  his  hunt  to  quaff  the  pure  water  that  gushes 
from  the  rock  in  the  plain,  brave  and  honorable,  and  the  dirty, 
lying,  thieving  wretch  who  hangs  around  the  saloons  in  the  fron- 
tier town  until  he  can  beg  or  steal  enough  whiskey  to  sink  him 
even  lower  than  he  is  by  nature,  or  who,  failing  that,  resorts  to 


558 


THE   MODOC   WAR. 


the  haunts  of  some  chief  whose  sole  business  it  is  to  attack  the 
passing  emigrant  train  or  massacre  the  women  and  children  in 
an  isolated  cabin  on  the  plains, — we  shall  learn  most  by  a  study 
of  the  plain,  unvarnished  facts. 

"  How  many  warriors  has  your  tribe  ?"  asked  an  officer  of  a 
Modoc. 

" There  is  our  country,"  replied  the  Indian;  "once  it  was  full 
of  people." 


BlIREAO OP /LLUSTRATiON.JiUFrALO'N.  Y. 


THE  :NTOBLE  RED  MAN  OF  THE  POETS. 

Allowing  for  the  habitual  exaggeration  of  the  red  man,  we 
know,  from  the  remains  of  their  ancient  villages,  that  this  peo- 
ple must  once  have  numbered  thousands,  while  at  the  date  of 
which  we  write,  scarcely  four  hundred  souls  made  up  the  once 
powerful  Modoc  nation.  Always  unfriendly  and  opposed  to  the 
whites,  it  was  well  for  the  settlers  that  their  strength  was  broken 
by  a  wasting  famine  very  early  in  the  history  of  the  West ;  a 
famine  so  terrible  that  a  squaw  killed  her  husband,  and  with  her 
child,  subsisted  upon  his  body,  until^  when  better  times  came,  and 


MODOO  WA*.  559 

they  offered  ner  less  dreadful  food,  she  became  insane,  and  con- 
fessing her  horrible  deed,  fled  to  the  rugged  cliffs  on  the  western 
shore  of  Lake  Klamath. 

Removed  from  their  home  near  Lake  Klamath  to  the  south- 
ern part  of  Oregon,  Captain  Jack's  band  for  some  time  refused 
to  go,  but  was  at  last  induced  to  follow  the  main  body  of  the 
tribe.  The  Klamaths,  a  notoriously  quarrelsome  people,  had  been 


THE  REAL  ARTICLE. 

placed  on  the  same  reservation,  and  trouble  arose  within  three 
months  after  Captain  Jack  had  settled  there.  By  the  efforts  of 
the  Indian  agents,  the  disturbances  were  quelled,  and  the  Klam- 
aths removed  to  a  more  distant  part  of  the  reservation.  But  the 
troubles  were  soon  renewed,  and  the  Modocs,  terming  this  reser- 
vation "  only  a  trap  for  the  benefit  of  the  Klamaths,  departed  to 
the  high  lands  known  as  the  lava  beds,  situated  beyond  the  Cal- 
ifornia border. 

The  Government  made  several  ineffectual  efforts   to  compel 


560 


THE  MODOC  WAR. 


these  Indians  to  return  to  their  reservation,  but  they  persistent- 
ly rejected  all  peaceful  overtures.  Commissioners  had  been  ap- 
pointed when  they  first  left  Oregon,  but  had  resigned  when  they 
found  all  efforts  unavailing;  and  in  March,  1873,  a  new  commis- 
sion was  formed,  composed  of  Gen.  E.  E.  S.  Canby,  Eev.  Dr.  E. 
Thomas,  a  leading  Methodist  divine  of  California,  Messrs.  Mea- 
cham,  Rosborough  arid  Dyer.  Trusting  in  a  system  of  gentle 
compulsion,  with  a  proper  display  of  the  force  that  could  be  used 
if  necessary,  the  commissioners  held  several  parleys  with  the  In- 
dians, who  were  insolent  and 
aggressive.  At  one  of  these 
interviews  Captain  Jack  and 
his  men  appeared  with  fresh 
white  scalps  at  their  helts,  but 
gradually  becoming  more  shy 
and  cautious,  refused  to  come 
into  camp  at  all. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the 
tenth  of  April  that  Bogus 
Charley  came  into  camp  with 
several  others,  all  of  whom 
were  liberally  treated,  receiv- 
ing presents  of  clothing  and 
provisions.  By  these  Indians 
the  commissioners  sent  a  message  to^the  chief,  inviting  him 
to  a  talk  at  a  designated  spot  about  half  a  mile  outside  of 
the  picket  lines.  Boston  Charley  came  in  the  next  morning,  say- 
ing that  Captain  Jack,  with  five  of  his  followers,  would  meet 
them  there.  Between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock  the  commissioners, 
accompanied  by  the  interpreter  and  his  squaw,  and  Boston  Char- 
ley and  Bogus  Charley,  went  out  to  the  spot  designated,  and 
there  met  the  six  Modocs.  Sitting  down  in  a  sort  of  a  broken 
circle,  the  commissioners  explained  what  they  wished  the  Mo- 
docs  to  do,  and  what  would  be  the  advantages  of  such  a  course 
of  action.  Captain  Jack  answered  evasively  in  an  apparently 
serious  strain  that  seems  to  have  blinded  the  white  men.  When 
he  had  finished,  he  stepped  back,  and  Schonchin  began  to  talk. 
Imagine  the  scene:  a  wide  valley,  nearly  level,  a  kind  of  con- 
gealed sea,  where  the  black  and  ragged  crested  waves  were  of 
lava ;  here  and  there,  in  the  small  hollows  a  little  ash-like  soil 
supported  a  tangled  growth  of  sage-bush ;  bounded  by  dark  and 


QEN.   E.    R.  S.    CANBY, 


562  THE    MODOC   WAR. 

frowning  walls  of  lava-like  rock,  more  than  a  thousand  feet  high; 
here  was  the  little  circle,  nearly  all  seated,  one  only  standing  by 
his  horse  ;  such  was  the  picture  as  Schonchin  spoke.  Suddenly, 
in  the  pauses  of  his  speech,  Mr.  Dyer,  who  stood  hy  his  horse, 
heard  a  cap  snap  ;  turning  quickly  around,  he  saw  Captain  Jack 
with  his  pistol  pointed  at  Gen.  Canby.  It  was  the  signal  for 
the  massacre.  Aiming  again  at  the  same  victim,  the  chief  fired, 
and  the  noble  old  man  fell,  while  Dr.  Thomas  was  killed  at  al- 
most the  same  instant.  Mr.  Dyer  turned  as  soon  as  he  heard  the 
cap  miss,  and  was  pursued  by  Hooker  Jim  ;  but  the  two  shots 
qf  the  latter  were  without  effect,  and  he  retreated  when  the  white 
man  drew  his  derringer.  Mr.  Meacham  escaped,  as  well  as  the 
interpreter  and  his  squaw. 

The  bugle  sounded  to  arms,  and  the  troops  hastily  advanced. 
On  they  dashed  past  the  body  of  Dr.  Thomas,  and  that  of  their 
beloved  and  respected  commander,  eager  to  avenge  his  death ; 
but  the  enemy  had  escaped  into  the  almost  impregnable  fastness- 
es that  towered  above  them,  and  they  had  to  return  to  the  camp 
without  accomplishing  their  desires. 

The  Canby  massacre  was  speedily  known  all  over  the  country, 
and  created  the  most  intense  excitement  and  resentment  against 
its  perpetrators.  Gen.  Schofield  was  sent  against  the  Modocs 
and  they  were  attacked  in  the  lava-beds  by  Gen.  Gillem  and  Col. 
Mason.  This  engagement  took  place  on  the  15th;  and  all  day 
long  both  the  troops  and  the  Indians  fought  gallantly  and  des- 
perately, for  revenge  or  for  life.  The  Modocs,  driven  to  their 
camp  at  nightfall,  were  not  unwilling  to  renew  the  conflict  the 
next  day.  Finally  they  were  cut  off  from  the  water,  their  camp 
was  broken  up  by  shelling,  and  it  was  only  under  cover  of  night 
that  they  were  able  to  escape. 

At  last  the  Modocs  had  been  driven  twenty  miles  from  their 
original  stronghold ;  and  although  they  fought  with  desperate 
courage,  the  contest  was  a  hopeless  one.  Entrenched  in  one  of 
the  caves  which  had  probably  once  been  a  vent  for  the  liquid  mass 
now  forming  a  rocky  sea  over  so  great  an  extent  of  country, 
Captain  Jack,  with  less  than  fifty  warriors,  had  held  six  hundred 
soldiers  at  bay  ;  but  he  was  powerless  to  cope  with  his  own  fol- 
lowers, when  interest  or  fear  bade  them  desert  to  the  enemy. 
Half  of  his  warriors  had  surrendered  themselves,  and  his  spirit 
was  broken.  At  last  a  Modoc,  with  a  white  flag,  met  a  scouting 
party  with  the  intelligence  that  Captain  Jack  wanted  to  surren- 


564 


THE    MODOC   WAR. 


der,  and  when  it  was  seen  that  he  was  well  received,  the  chief 
himself  came  forward  with  extended  hand. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  summer  afternoon  as  the  party  ap- 
proached camp  with  their  prisoner,  and  all  but  the  necessary 
guards  were  enjoying  a  siesta.  But  as  the  soldiers  on  duty  re- 


CAPTAIN  JACK. 


cognized  the  Indian  captive  who  was  approaching,  and  passed  the 
information  each  to  the  other,  the  drowsy  quiet  vanished  as  if 
by  magic.  Wild  cheers  from  the  troops  greeted  the  murderer  of 
their  beloved  old  commander,  as  he  entered  the  camp  and  stood 
before  them,  every  inch  a  chief.  Proud,  disdainful,  indifferent  to 
taunt  and  courtesy  alike,  he  maintained  a  dogged  silence,  even 
when  ironed ;  only  a  subordinate  protested  against  this  insult. 


THE  MODOO  WAR. 


565 


HOOKER  JIM 


BOSTON  CHARLEY. 


SHACK  NASTY  JIM. 


MODOCS. 


566  GENERAL    CROOK. 

But  when  it  was  once  decided  wh'at  should  be  done  with  the 
Modocs,  and  a  civil  trial  preferred  to  a  court-martial,  or  exter- 
mination without  trial,  as  some  extremists  urged,  Captain 
Jack's  silence  was  broken.  Condemned  to  death,  he  said  that 
he  had  not  wanted  to  fight  the  whites,  but  had  been  driven  to  it 
by  his  warriors ;  but  the  law  takes  cognizance  of  actions,  not  of 
wishes,  and  he,  with  those  of  his  followers  who  had  participated 
in  the  massacre,  were  sentenced  and  hanged.  Probably  he  would 
have  remained  silent  had  any  other  mode  of  death  been  chosen; 
but  this,  to  the  Indian,  is  the  most  horrible  of  all.  Believing 
that  the  soul  escapes  through  the  open  mouth  at  the  moment  of 
death,  strangulation,  according  to  his  idea,  prevents  this,  and 
the  unhappy  spirit,  condemned  to  hover  around  the  decaying 
body,  is  kept  forever  from  the  happy  hunting  grounds. 

So  we  take  leave  of  the  Modocs,  that  once,  according  to  the 
boast  of  a  chief,  were  as  the  sands  of  the  sea  in  number  and  now 
are  a  miserable  remnant  of  little  more  than  two  hundred  souls. 

Comparative  peace  reigned  for  a  space  of  about  two  years. 
Although  there  was  no  lack  of  outrages  committed  during  this 
time,  yet  they  did  not  result  in  war  with  any  one  tribe.  But 
when  the  discovery  of  gold  in  the  Black  Hills  country  drew  ad- 
venturers thither,  the  Sioux  were  ready  to  fight  for  the  land 
which  had  been  so  solemnly  ceded  to  them.  The  information 
that  soldiers  were  marching  against  them  from  both  north  and 
south  only  enraged  them  the  more,  and  it  is  calculated  that  the 
first  half  of  the  year  1876  saw  the  murder  of  a  hundred  miners. 
Certain  it  is  that  the  latter  part  of  that  half-year  saw  a  massacre 
unapproached  since  the  days  of  Braddock  ;  but  no  Washington 
rode  unharmed  among  the  showers  of  bullets,  when  Custer  and 
his  command  were  slaughtered.  "We  have  already  detailed  the 
earlier  part  of  this  double  expedition,  but  the  battle  on  the  Rose- 
bud is  so  characteristic  of  Indian  warfare  that  it  deserves  fur- 
ther description. 

On  the  principle  that  "  it  takes  a  thief  to  catch  a  thief,"  many 
of  our  best  Indian  fighters  make  it  a  rule  to  employ  friendly  red- 
skins in  every  campaign  ;  especially  is  this  true  of  the  Gray  Fox., 
as  the  savages  have  dubbed  G-en.  Crook,  naming  him  from  the 
color  of  his  usual  apparel  and  his  success  in  foiling  their  most 
cunningly  laid  plans.  In  this  battle,  his  right  wing  consisted  of 
these  dusky  allies  and  two  companies  of  infantry,  while  his  left 
was  composed  entirely  of  cavalry.  Slowly  advancing,  the  whole 


THE   BATTLE    ON   THE   ROSEBtJD. 


567 


line  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  furious  fighting.  The  cavalry 
charged  upon  the  dusky  mass,  with  about  the  effect  of  a  descent 
upon  so  many  flies;  the  army  of  Indians  scattered,  resolving 
itself  into  a  number  pf  individual  savages,  but  only  to  reu- 
nite and  prepare  to  receive,  in  an  equally  strong  position,  anoth- 


QEN.   C.   H.   CROOK. 

er  charge.  So  the  cavalry  was  led  onward,  until  the  two  wings 
were  completely  disunited.  The  left  was  recalled  to  the  origi- 
nal position,  but  it  was  more  difficult  to  retrace  their  steps  than 
it  had  been  to  advance.  Charging  onward,  they  had  found  the 
enemy  melt  away  before  them;  retreating,  Indians  poured  from 
every  ravine  and  hill.  Contending  with  the  dusky  foe  on  flank 
and  rear  as  well  as  in  front,  there  was  a  moment  of  desperate 
hand-to-hand  fighting — sabres  and  pistols,  lances  and  knives, — 
and  they  had  hewn  a  path  back  to  the  standard  of  the  commander. 


568 


THE  BATTLE  ON  THE  ROSEBUD. 


GENERAL   CROOK.  569 

It  was  an  eventful  year  to  the  Indian  fighters.  All  through  the 
summer  and  fall  we  hear  of  marches  and  fights ;  of  the  Indians 
pursued  so  closely  and  so  secretly  that  on  one  occasion  at  least 
the  soldiers  found  the  live  embers  of  a  fire,  a  bloody  hatchet,  and 
parts  of  a  newly  killed  antelope  carcass  in  a  new  brush  tepee,  on 
the  line  of  march.  As  they  advanced  to  the  northward,  their 
course  became  plainer  to  the  Indian,  whose  only  learning  is  the 
woodcraft  which  enables  him  to  baffle  or  pursue  his  enemies;  and 
the  horizon,  here  and  there,  grew  dark  with  the  smoke  of  signal 
fires.  Gen.  Crook  expected  to  receive  reinforcements  of  Crow 
Indians  early  in  June,  but  as  they  did  not  join  him  at  the  time 
when  they  were  ordered  to  do  so,  he  sent  two  companies  of  in- 
fantry forward  to  Powder  River,  a  day  in  advance  of  the  main 
column,  to  meet  them,  in  order  to  insure  safety  from  the  hostiles. 
But  telegraphic  communication  with  the  Crow  agency  had  been 
broken,  and  they  had  never  received  his  orders.  It  was  then 
without  the  expected  assistance  that  he  must  advance  into  a  coun- 
try where  every  foot  of  ground  could  have  told  a  story  of  some 
inhuman  massacre  or  desperate  defense. 

The  country  through  which  they  were  now  marching  had  been 
the  scene,  in  1866,  of  a  massacre  of  ninety  men,  near  Fort  Phil 
Kearney;  in  1867,  of  a  desperate  fight  of  six  Montanians  near 
by  the  same  spot,  an  encounter  which  not  one  of  the  white  men 
survived  ;  Crazy  Woman's  Fork  had  seen,  in  1868,  a  furious  at- 
tack upon  a  party  of  twelve  men,  who  heroically  defended  the 
women  and  children,  and  at  last  drove  off  the  assailants.  Three 
times  had  this  been  the  objective  point  in  a  military  invasion  of 
the  Indian  country';  in  1865,  Gen.  Connor  had,  by  desperate 
fighting,  destroyed  a  village  of  hostile  Cheyennes  and  Arapa- 
hoes ;  in  1866,  Gen.  Carrington  had  left  the  Indians  masters  of 
the  situation;  and  early  in  1876,  Gen.  Crook  himself  had  fallen 
back  temporarily. 

Many  of  the  chiefs  were  quite  willing  to  sell  the  Black  Hills 
on  any  terms  that  the  government  might  offer ;  according  to  their 
assertions,  the  truth  of  which  was  afterward  confirmed  by  other 
evidence,  there  were  but  few  Sioux  absent  from  the  reservation, 
the  bulk  of  Sitting  Bull's  forces  being  Cheyennes,  with  a  sprink- 
ling of  other  tribes.  But  Sitting  Bull  swore  that  he  would  fight 
for  the  Black  Hills  as  long  as  the  question  was  unsettled,  or  as 
Ipng  as  he  lived. 

In  July,  Gen.  Merritt  was  ordered  to  join  Crook,  but  was  * 


570  GENERAL  CROOK. 

layed  somewhat  by  the  band  of  eight  hundred  Cheyennes,  whom 
he  drove  back  to  their  agency.  Doubtless  this  had  a  most  ex- 
cellent effect  upon  all  the  Indians  who  learned  of  it,  preventing 
them  from  leaving  the  reservation.  Another  reinforcement  of 
six  companies  of  the  Fifth  Infantry  was  ordered  at  the  same 
time,  the  commander  being  Gen.  Miles.  This  officer,  who  had 
served  through  the  Civil  War,  and  had  then  earned  himself  an 
honorable  name,  had  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  best  In- 
dian fighters  on  the  border.  Doubtless  the  news  of  this  last 
force  was  doubly  welcome  to  Gen.  Crook,  who  preferred  infantry 
to  cavalry,  since  the  latter  are  at  home  and  ready  to  fight  under 
all  circumstances ;  the  cavalry,  dismounted,  being  compelled  to 
fight  under  unusual  conditions. 

But  even  before  the  arrival  of  these  reinforcements,  while  the 
Indians  were  three  to  one,  Gren.  Crook  had  no  doubt  of  his  ability 
to  whip  them.  His  delay  came  from  his  fear  that  the  victory 
would  be  barren  of  results  if  only  a  small  force  were  engaged, 
while  the  assistance  of  the  promised  troops  would  enable  him  to 
end  the  campaign  with  one  crushing  blow. 

The  aim  of  both  Terry  and  Crook  had  been  to  effect  a  junction, 
and  on  Aug.  8th,  the  former  marched  up  the  Eosebud  for  that 
purpose.  The  ^eat  was  intense,  and  the  lack  of  water,  so  com- 
mon in  that  region,  increased  greatly  the  sufferings  of  men  and 
horses.  There  was  but  little  grass,  for  ever  since  the  battle  on 
the  Little  Big  Horn  the  Indians  had  bee*i  burning  the  vegetation 
which  might  afford  sustenance  to  the  enemy's  horses ;  and  an  oc- 
casional oasis  in  this  desert,  where  the  grass,  protected  by  slight 
shade,  had  been  too  green  to  burn,  was  hailed  with  joy.  As  they 
journeyed  on,  a  Sioux  squaw  brought  intelligence  of  a  terrible 
fight  between  Crook  and  the  Sioux,  in  which  the  latter  had  been 
well-nigh  annihilated.  Scarcely  daring  to  believe  this  welcome 
news,  they  pushed  onward,  and  found,  on  reaching  his  camp  on 
the  10th,  that  it  was  true.  The  combined  force,  according  to  Gen. 
Sheridan's  official  despatches,  amounted  to  less  than  two  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  men;  the  Indians  could  muster  from  eight 
to  ten  thousand  warriors. 

Having  retired  to  Fort  Fetterman  to  wait  for  the  expected  re- 
inforcements, it  was  about  the  middle  of  November  when  Gen. 
Crook  left  that  point  at  the  head  of  the  largest  force  that  had 
been  sent  against  the  Indians  for  many  years.  Eleven  companies 
of  cavalry,  the  same  number  of  infantry,  four  of  artillery,  and  a 


GENERAL  CROOK. 


671 


572  GEtfERAfc   CROOK. 

body  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  Indians  commanded  by  white  of- 
ficers, formed  his  army.  Intending  to  march  against  Crazy 
Horse,  he  learned  that  that  wily  Indian  chief  had  so  placed  his 
camp  that  a  long  and  roundabout  march  would  be  required  to 
surprise  it,  and  it  was  determined  to  attack  the  Cheyennes,  who 
were  somewhere  near,  in  the  foot-hills.  The  Indian  allies  for 
some  time  searched  for  the  exact  locality,  and  were  at  last  re- 


THE   INDIAN   CAMP. 

warded  by  finding  the  village  without  being  discovered.  E"ov. 
23rd,  Gen.  Mackenzie,  with  seven  hundred  picked  cavalry  and 
the  whole  body  of  friendly  Indians,  marched  toward  the  Chey- 
enne camp,  halting  at  striking  distance  the  next  day  to  wait  for 
darkness  to  conceal  his  farther  advance.  When  night  fell,  the 
march  was  resumed,  and  before  daylight  he  reached  a  point  from 
which  the  men  could  distinctly  hear  the  clamor  made  by  the 
voices  and  tom-toms  of  the  Indians,  as  they  performed  the  scalp- 


GENERAL   CROOK.  573 

dance  in  honor  of  a  recent  successful  attack  upon  a  small  party 
of  Crows. 

The  situation  of  the  troops  was  pitiable  in  the  extreme.  In 
the  bottom  of  a  dark  and  narrow  gorge,  around  them  rose  the 
rocky  sides  to  a  height  of  a  thousand  feet;  the  snow  lay  piled  in 
drifts  from  two  to  four  feet  deep,  and  the  cold  was  intense,  yet 
no  fire  could  be  built,  and  perfect  silence  must  be  maintained. 
The  horses  stood  with  heads  bowed  down,  tired  out  with  the 
long  march ;  the  men  shuffled  their  feet  quietly,  and  now  and 
then  changed  their  positions,  just  moving  enough  to  keep  from 
freezing.  As  the  faint  gray  streaks  in  the  east  proclaimed  the 
approach  of  morning,  the  noises  in  the  Indian  camp  died  gradu- 
ally away;  and  when  all  was  still,  the  half-frozen  troops  climbed 
with  stiffened  limbs  into  their  saddles,  and  moved  forward  to  the 
attack. 

Moving  silently  down  the  long  canon  towards  the  village, 
which  lay  stretched  out  for  three  miles  along  the  banks  of  the 
frozen  stream,  the  Indian  allies  rode  forward,  and  with  all  the 
whoops  and  yells  which  characterize  their  conflicts,  fell  upon 
one  end  of  the  village.  Many  of  the  Cheyennes,  seizing  their 
arms,  rushed  to  cover  among  the  rocks  inaccessible  to  the  white 
men;  some  were  killed  before  they  had  gained  this  refuge,  while 
others  stayed  behind  to  defend  their  lodges.  The  cavalry  were 
soon  in  the  midst  of  the  fight.  Dull  Knife,  the  Cheyenne  chief, 
sprang  to  his  arms,  and  called  upon  his  warriors  to  repulse  the 
soldiers.  But  though  the  summons  was  echoed  by  a  rapid  and 
galling  fire  from  those  savages  still  in  the  village,  nothing  could 
withstand  the  onset  of  the  heavy  cavalry ;  and  having  seen  his 
youngest  and  favorite  son  fall  at  his  very  feet,  Dull  Knife  joined 
his  flying  band,  and  in  a  short  time  the  village,  entirely  deserted 
by  its  inhabitants,  was  in  the  possession  of  the  troops. 

From  their  rocky  refuge  the  Cheyennes  poured  an  incessant 
fire.  ]STo  power  from  below  could  dislodge  the  determined  fight- 
ers from  their  position,  and  it  soon  became  apparent  that  the  at- 
tacking force  was  powerless  against  less  than  half  its  numbers. 
Burning  the  village,  and  disposing  his  men  so  as  to  secure  as 
much  protection  as  possible  from  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  Gen. 
Mackenzie  despatched  an  Indian  to  ask  Gen.  Crook  for  reinforce- 
ments. Not  until  ten  A.  M.  the  next  day  did  this  runner  reach 
the  main  camp,  when  the  infantry  was  immediately  sont  to  the 
relief  of  the  cavalry.  There  was  no  delay;  every  man  was  anx- 


574  GENERAL   MILES. 

ious  to  get  where  he  could  help  his  comrades,  and  though  swear- 
ing like  "  our  army  in  Flanders  "  as  they  floundered  on  through 
the  deep  snow-drifts,  they  only  halted  for  a  few  hours  at  three 
A.  M.,  when  the  guide  lost  the  trail ;  proceeding  onward  at  dawn 
and  meeting  some  of  Mackenzie's  advance  guards  a  little  after 
sunrise. 

They  found  that  their  coming  would  afford  no  assistance,  for 
the  enemy  had  been  obliged  by  the  cold  to  leave  their  lofty  posts 
and  retreat  to  a  position  where  they  could  build  fires  and  pre- 
pare food.  The  Indians,  to  whom  clothes  are  an  adornment 
rather  than  a  necessity,  habitually  sleep  naked  when  in  camp 
and  unsuspicious  of  danger  •  those  of  the  plains,  whatever  may  be 
said  of  their  hardy  vigor,  are  peculiarly  susceptible  to  cold ;  so 
that  the  Cheyennes,  driven  by  an  enemy  with  which  human  nature 
could  not  contend,  collected  their  herds  of  ponies  during  the 
night  and  retreated.  Even  then  Mackenzie's  plans  were  frustrated, 
for  a  strong  and  determined  rear-guard  drove  back  the  pursuers 
set  upon  their  track  as  soon  as  their  departure  was  discovered. 
With  no  food  but  the  flesh  of  their  ponies,  no  clothing  but  the 
green  hides  of  the  same  faithful  animals,  they  made  their  way 
with  almost  incredible  difficulty  across  the  bleak  snow-clad  sum- 
mits of  the  Big  Horn  Mountains  to  the  camp  of  Crazy  Horse. 
From  their  old  allies  and  friends,  the  Sioux,  to  whom  they  had 
never  yet  refused  assistance,  from  whom  they  had  never  yet  fail- 
ed to  obtain  it,  the  half-frozen  and  famishing  Cheyennes  might 
well  hope  to  receive  food,  shelter  and  protection.  But  self-pre- 
servation is  the  first  instinct  of'our  natures,  and  the  Sioux  chief 
felt  the  support  of  fifteen  hundred  people  too  great  a  tax  upon  his 
own  band;  and  he  received  them  so  coldly,  and  supplied  their 
wants  with  such  a  niggardly  hand,  that  they  soon  left  the  camp. 
Unable  to  contend  against  such  difficulties,  no  alternative  was 
left  them,  and  early  in  1877  they  surrendered  themselves. 

Justice  soon  overtook  the  Sioux  who  had  denied  food  and  shel- 
ter to  their  suffering  allies,  in  the  shape  of  an  expedition  against 
them  headed  by  Gen.  Miles.  Setting  out  Dec.  27th,  with  a  force 
of  seven  companies  of  infantry,  numbering  three  hundred  fight- 
ing men,  they  experienced  heavy  snow,  intense  cold,  and  severe 
windstorms.  The  influence  of  the  latter  upon  the  temperature 
can  hardly  be  estimated  by  those  who  know  but  little  of  the 
plains ;  they  cut  through  and  through  with  the  keenest  and  most 
piercing  cold.  Slowly  they  proceeded,  their  progress  retarded 


GENERAL   MILES. 


575 


by  hardships  which  cannot  be  exaggerated,  towards  the  Wolf 
Mountains,  sixty  miles  away.  At  last  they  were  rewarded  by 
finding  Indian  sign,  and  pushing  on,  struck  a  large  force  of  In- 
dians on  the  7th.  Defeating  these,  they  marched  onward,  en- 
countering a  body  of  a  thousand  warriors  on  the  8th.  Fully 
armed,  and  well  supplied  with  ammunition,  the  redskins  were 
confident  of  victory.  The  ground  was  rough  and  broken,  so  that 
no  cavalry  was  needed;  indeed,  if  they  had  had  such  a  force,  it 
would  have  been  diificult  to  use. 


GEN.  N.  A.  MILES. 

Again  and  again  they  charged  upon  the  troops,  but  were  as  often 
repulsed.  For  five  hours  the  fight  continued,  though  during  the 
greater  part  of  this  time  a  blinding  snowstorm  almost  hid  them 
from  each  other.  The  Indians  at  last  retreated,  fighting  as  they 
went,  and  were  closely  pursued  as  far  as  supplies  permitted. 
The  loss  on  the  part  of  the  troops  was  small;  that  of  the  Indians 
could  not  be  absolutely  determined.  Many  squaws  and  children 
were  taken  prisoners,  to  whom  the  kindness  with  which  their 
captors  treated  them  seemed  very  extraordinary.  Used  to  the 


576 


CHIEF   JOSEPH    AND    THE    NEZ   PERCES. 


inhumanity  of  their  own  treatment  of  captives,  it  was  quite  puz- 
zling to  them. 

The  strength  of  the  hostiles  was  practically  broken;  the  Chey- 
ennes  had  come  in  and  surrendered  themselves.  Sitting  Bull, 
with  his  conglomerate  force,  had  hetaken  himself  into  Canada, 
and  Crazy  Horse  and  his  band  of  Sioux  had  been  defeated  by 
this  last  fight  with  Gen.  Miles.  A  band  of  the  Nez  Perces  Indians 
are  the  dusky  heroes  of  the  next  campaign,  which  was  conducted 

by  Gen.  Howard.  The  so-called 
Chief  Joseph,  of  the  Nez  Perces, 
was  really  a  scalawag  with  some 
followers,  the  main  body  of  the 
tribe  keeping  firmly  to  the  treaty 
made  with  the  United  States 
in  1855. 

Leaving-^their  reservation  in 
the  summer  of  1877,  these  non- 
treaty  Indians,  as  they  were 
called,  refused  to  return,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  employ  force. 
Gen.  Gibbon  accordingly  march- 
ed against  them,  and  a  severe  en- 
GEN.  o.  o.  HOWARD.  gagement  ensued  when  the  two 

forces  met,  Aug.  9th,  which  resulted  in  a  heavy  loss  to  the  troops. 
Encouraged  by  this  success,  Chief  Joseph  and  his  band  started 
eastward  to  the  buffalo  country,  but  were  met  by  Gen.  Sturgis, 
with  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  All  day  long  they  fought,  and  the 
Indians,  badly  cut  up,  retreated,  followed  by  Gen.  Sturgis,  who 
had  now  been  reinforced  by  Gen.  Howard.  The  last  day  of 
September  Gen.  Miles  made  a  sudden  attack  upon  the  enemy, 
whose  camp  was  on  the  level  ground  of  the  river  bottom.  The 
Indians  fled  to  the  crests  of  the  surrounding  hills,  and  thence  re- 
pulsed the  charges  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  A  row  of  dead  hor- 
ses marked  the  line  of  attack,  and  nearly  all  the  officers  were 
killed  or  disabled.  Finally  the  Indians  took  to"  the  pits  and  ra- 
vines, whence  it  was  almost  impossible  to  dislodge  them. 

The  arrival  of  Gen.  Howard,  Oct.  4th,  was  followed,  the  next 
day,  by  the  surrender  of  Joseph  and  his  band. 

"I  am  tired  of  fighting/'  said  he;  "our  chiefs  are  killed;  the 
old  men  are  all  dead ;  it  is  the  young  men  who  say  yes  or  no. 
He  who  led  on  the  young  men  is  dead.  It  is  cold,  and  we  have 


Ti 


THE   UTES. 


577 


no  blankets ;  the  little  children  are  freezing  to  death.  I  am  tired  • 
my  heart  is  sick  and  sad.  From  where  the  sun  now  stands  I  will 
fight  no  more  forever." 

The  outbreaks  of  the  succeeding  years  are  mainly  due  to  the  bad 
faith  of  the  Indian  agents.  The  Utes,  particularly,  had  always 
been  notably  peaceable,  submitting  to  many  indignities  rather 
than  go  to  war  with  the  whites.  The  inveterate  enemies  of  the 
Sioux,  it  was  their  earnest  desire  to  "travel  the  white  man's 
road,"  as  the  Indian  expresses  it.  In  July  they  set  fire  to  the 


CAPT.  D.    L.   PAYNE. 


timber  near  their  reservation  in  order  to  concentrate  game.  This 
resulted  in  the  destruction  of  considerable  property,  and  the 
guilty  ones  were  ordered  to  bo  arrested.  Provoked  by  many 
previous  indignities,  they  were  not  disposed  to  submit  to  this 
reasonable  requirement,  and  it  became  necessary  to  send  for 
troops. 

Major  Thornburgh  was  accordingly  despatched  with  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  men,  and  followed  the  enemy  into  the  sandhills. 
Here  the  Utes,  brought  to  bay,  ambuscaded,  but  the  ruse  was 
fortunately  discovered  by  the  troops,  and  they  were  obliged  to 
change  their  tactics.  Dashing  down  upon  the  main  force,  they 


578  WAR    CLOUDS. 

reached  the  end  of  the  train,  and  a  moment  held  their  own,  but 
were  more  than  once  repulsed.  The  gallant  commanding  officer 
led  a  counter  charge  against  them,  but  fell  at  the  head  of  his  men. 
Securing  his  body,  they  retreated  and  intrenched  themselves  be- 
hind the  wagons  and  dead  horses.  Again  and  again  the  Indians 
charged  upon  them,  only  ceasing  at  night,  and  recommenced  early 
the  next  morning.  The  death  of  Major  Thornburgh  left  Capt. 
Payne  in  command,  and  encouraged  by  him  the  troops  held  out 
bravely,  until  the  sixth  day  came.  Worn  out  by  the  constant 
vigilance  required  as  well  as  by  the  intense  anxiety  with  which 
their  situation  most  naturally  filled  them,  with  what  delight  they 
must  have  seen  yonder  dark  spot  on  the  horizon  grow  into  a  line, 
the  line  into  amoving  mass,  the  indistinct  outlines  of  which  grad- 
ually brighten  into  the  semblance  of  a  company  of  soldiers  !  For 
once,  if  never  before  or  since,  they  felt  the  distinctions  of  race 
even  more  completely  blotted  out  than  the  advocates  of  the  Fif- 
teenth Amendment  and  the  Civil  Eights  Bill  could  hope,  and 
they  did  not  scruple  to  accept  the  assistance  of  these  black  sol- 
diers. "  The  colored  troops  fought  nobly,"  and  when  Gen.  Mer- 
ritt  arrived  with  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  there  was  but  little  more  to  be 
done.  The  Utes,however,did  not  return  to  their  reservation  un- 
til the  burning  of  their  agency,  and  the  murder  of  many  white 
men  had  enraged  the  surrounding  country. 

Trouble  with  the  Poncas  was  anticipated,  when,  early  in  1881, 
they  were  removed  from  their  reservation,  which  was  ceded  to 
the  Sioux,  who  would  not  accept  the  gift.  But  before  the  In- 
dians could  take  decisive  action,  the  presence  of  Gens.  Crook 
and  Miles,  who  had  been  sent  with  two  columns  to  visit  and  re- 
port upon  the  state  of  affairs,  frightened  them  into  submission. 

However  clear  the  day,  a  dark  rim  may  mark  the  horizon,  and 
gradually  overspread  the  sky;  from  the  aspect  of  the  frontier 
that  cloud  is  never  absent ;  when  it  may  be  borne  onward  by  op- 
pression or  the  desire  for  revenge,  cannot  be  predicted.  Even 
as  we  write,  from  here  and  there  come  reports  of  fights  and  mas- 
sacres ;  whether  or  not  these,  spreading  over  the  West,  shall 
deepen  into  absolute  war,  cannot  be  predicted.  The  wisdom  of 
our  present  system  of  managing  the  Indians  is  questioned  every 
day;  and  perhaps,  before  long,  our  Government  will  adopt  the 
British  policy,  and  treat  them,  not  as  dependent  nations,  but  as 
bodies  of  citizens  subject  to  all  the  laws  of  the  United  States. 


